


From the Ashes We Rise

by Lostinfantasies38



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Cole gets a happy ending, Divine Cassandra Pentaghast, Dragon Age: Inquisition - Trespasser DLC, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Gifting library trope, Humor, Inquisitor & Dorian Pavus Friendship, Lavellan/Solas Angst (Dragon Age), Minor Blackwall/Josephine Montilyet, Past Inquisitor/Solas (Dragon Age), Protective Varric Tethras, Romance, Sweet Cullen Rutherford, The return of Solas is going to hurt, There will be tears later, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 02:08:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 57,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21589930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lostinfantasies38/pseuds/Lostinfantasies38
Summary: Corypheus is dead.  Solas is gone.  Nymeria Lavellan doesn't know how to cope with his disappearance, but Fate and her friends intervene, revealing that she was never as alone as she thought.  He has always been there and he will remain at her side even as the end of the Inquisition looms.
Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Female Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford
Comments: 8
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

It was done. A year’s worth of hard work, slogging through bogs, deserts, overgrown forests full of ancient guardian elves and bears almost as large as a chateau. A year of scars, near death experiences, and night terrors to stop an ancient Tevinter magister from Blighting the world with his unquenchable thirst for power. 

  
It was a monumental undertaking and it should have been a miraculous moment filled with triumph, but all she could think about after she sent Corypheus into the Fade and pieces of floating temple stopped raining down around her companions, was the despondent look on Solas’ face when he discovered the shattered orb.

  
Nymeria walked up on silent feet and placed a hand delicately on his shoulder. “Ma vhenan,” she whispered. “I am so sorry. I know you wanted to retrieve the orb.” Her heart broke at the strangled sound that caught in Solas’ throat.

  
“It is not _your_ fault.” His slender fingers dropped the piece of the elven orb he was holding, his hands unconsciously clenching at the loss. He looked so lost and withdrawn – a side she had never seen of the self-assured elf. She opened her mouth to speak again, but was interrupted before she could say anything.

  
“Inquisitor? Are you still alive?”

  
Blowing an exasperated sigh of impatience from her heart-shaped mouth, Nymeria pushed the long strands of platinum hair that had escaped her bun during the fight and turned to face her responsibilities. She would catch up with Solas at Skyhold and they could speak then. Even if they were no longer romantically involved, that didn’t mean they couldn’t remain friends and Nymeria was never one to neglect her friends when they needed her.

  
She was relieved to see that all of her companions, even Morrigan, managed to survive the confrontation with their enemy. After reassuring Cassandra that she was indeed, alive and relatively unharmed, she began to lead her people home. _Home_ , she smiled to herself. Not a word a Dalish elf ever expected to use. 

  
Glancing back at the ruins of the Temple of Sacred Ashes, she scanned the site quickly for Solas, but she didn’t see him. Swallowing thickly to bury the sense of dread that was threatening to overtake her, she continued the long walk home. She sent a silent prayer to the Creators that he was just clearing his head and would meet them back at the castle later, similar to the time he shortly disappeared after his friend of Wisdom was granted release.

  
The trip through the mountains back to Skyhold took only a couple of hours, thanks to the roads that Josephine made passable for their merchants. As they neared the gates Nymeria mentally shook herself, knowing that her approach was going to be watched and realizing that her people needed her to make a good impression. 

  
She briefly halted the party to rinse off her face with water from her canteen and a soft piece of flannel that Varric gifted her last year in Haven. He took notice of how she always tried her best to appear fresh faced for her team and her followers and he hated watching her use the scratchy cloth that was all the Inquisition could afford at the start of their journey. Every time she used the flannel, she believed she could pick out the faint scent of leather from his gloves and his spicy aftershave. Nymeria smiled softly to herself at the memory. 

  
_Varric shuffled through the snow at Haven with only minor difficulty on his short legs towards her cabin, holding something in his gloved hands. She had just stepped outside to head to the smithy for some armor improvements when she spotted the dwarf heading towards her._

  
_He waved and broke into a grin when he saw her carrying a large pack on her back that looked like it was heavy enough to squash the diminutive elf. “Hello, Herald. How are you today?”_

_Nymeria smiled warmly at the rogue. “I’m well, Varric. I’m enjoying the rest after our last trip.”_

_Varric laughed, a rich warm sound, much like the dwarf himself. “I can imagine. At least there will be fewer bears in the Hinterlands the next time we go.”_

_The elf laughed brightly._ _“Yes. I do feel bad for taking so many down, but we couldn’t even turn a corner without walking smack into another one.”_

_“Or two,” Varric reminded her with minor irritation. The elf snorted in reply, remembering how they had been surprised by two very large bears and Varric had run for dear life on his stubby legs. It was scary at the time as she worried for her friend’s welfare, but now it was just funny._

  
_She glanced at the fabric he had in his hand with curiosity. “What is that?”_

_“Ah,” Varric smirked. “I know it’s not much, but I noticed how you always wash your face after a fight and the cloth we have here is so rough. I thought I would get you something softer.” He watched her fluidly drop the pack and take the cloth he was offering her._

  
_It was a beautiful shade of navy-blue flannel with a small silver triangle pattern about the size of a pocket handkerchief that could easily be stored in her pack. It was such a small gesture, but it was so considerate and sweet. Growing up Dalish, most of her possessions were communal among the clan and gifts were something that were shared between spouses or given to children. She had not grown up with luxuries and she was not against the rough scraps of cloth she used as makeshift facial towels, but Varric had been thoughtful enough to gift her with something practical and special._

  
_The dwarf watched the emotions flit across her face and was pleased with himself. He had guessed that the elf was not accustomed to gifts and was glad that he’d chosen something small to keep from overwhelming her. She looked at him with wonder. “Thank you, Varric. That was very kind of you.” He chuckled lightly, but the soft brush of her lips against his cheek turned it into a small cough of surprise. Nymeria was blushing slightly at her affectionate display, suddenly unsure of herself and his reaction._

  
_Varric recovered quickly and gave her his best roguish grin. “Anytime, Blossom.” As he walked away the sound of her happy giggle at the nickname warmed him even more._

  
That cloth had been all over Orlais and Ferelden with her and no matter how many times she washed it, she could still smell the leather and spice. Of course, it could have been subconscious at this stage, but it didn’t matter. That piece of flannel represented the first time Nymeria made a friend outside of her clan and finally began to feel comfortable with her new role as the Herald of the human Bride of the Maker. 

  
Her face was washed, her hair quickly brushed through with her fingers and braided to better hide any tangles created during the battle. She carefully stowed the flannel back into her traveling pack and made sure the rest of her team were ready to continue. Everyone took one more swig from their canteens and tightened any armor buckles that had been loosened during the brief pit stop. 

  
She looked at her companions, a motley crew indeed, if one just looked at them and didn’t understand them as individuals or how efficiently they worked as a team. A Tevinter mage working with a former Qunari spy. A dwarf working alongside elves. A Seeker fighting next to apostates. A spirit made human and a warrior who once pretended to be a Grey Warden. They had all come to fight against a threat that was bigger than any of them and somehow, they had all managed to become friends, of a sort. Sure, they had disagreements like any group of friends, but they still managed to put their issues aside and work together. It had permanently bonded them. To Nymeria, they were as much her family as her Dalish clan.

  
“Let’s go home.” 

  
Her family smiled back and nodded enthusiastically. They trudged up the final rise in the road and as they came in sight of the gates, they could hear it. A dull roar was building inside the castle. At first, fear clutched at Nymeria’s heart and she worried for her people, but as they got closer she realized the roar was the sound of hundreds of workers and followers cheering her victory. Tears welled up in her large eyes at the resounding show of love these people – human, elf, dwarf, mercenary, merchant, servant, diplomat – were raining down on a Dalish elf. On her. She would probably never become fully adjusted to the way the world saw her, but tonight after the culmination of a year’s worth of blood, sweat and tears, she would not question her good fortune - she would simply revel in it and let it lift her weary heart.


	2. Chapter 2

Two weeks passed since the final battle with Corypheus and Josephine was throwing a grand fete in the Inquisitor’s honor tonight. The poor ambassador had been scrambling to make arrangements on such a short time line and was making herself sick with anxiety, but Nymeria knew that if anyone could do it, it would be Josephine.

Nymeria was outside, staring at the gates as the sun set – willing, wishing, praying, hoping – that Solas would return. Leliana appeared beside her with only the slightest whisper of fabric to alert the elf of her arrival. Without turning to face her spymaster, she spoke into the dusk. “Nothing?”

Leliana shook her head gently with sadness. “No, Inquisitor. My scouts have seen no sign of him. If he does not wish to be found –” Leliana spread her hands in futility. Nymeria nodded. She knew that he was probably even more adept at evading discovery than the Dalish, as an elven apostate.

With a heavy sigh, Nymeria turned to the redhead. “Well, let’s go try some of those tiny cakes that Josephine ordered.”

“Oh! I love tiny cakes!” Leliana’s joyous response brought a genuine smile to the elf’s face. “A word of warning Inquisitor, avoid the dark ones. Deep mushroom and anise – they seem to be all the rage in Val Royeaux at the moment. I do not recommend it.” The rogue stuck out her tongue in bitter remembrance and Nymeria laughed.

“Noted. I’ll only go for the pink or white ones then.” She threaded her arm through Leliana’s and they entered the party together. Leliana introduced her to a few new noble faces that had appeared for the fete, before leaving her to confer with the ambassador.

Nymeria wandered around greeting those she knew and smiled to see that even Harritt had left the dank forge to sit and drink with Iron Bull as they discussed the newest modifications to Bull’s greatsword. Cole was actually trying to mingle with those people he was already familiar with, instead of hiding in the shadows, and she was pleased to see that he was adjusting well to his more human state.

He must have felt her observing him. He turned to give her a small wave and a warm smile. She raised her glass of spiced wine in acknowledgment and he chuckled. When he mentioned that Leliana liked to put honey in her wine and was unsure how he could keep doing that, Nymeria had been curious to try it herself and found that she liked the honey best with spiced wine, which was now the only way she drank it. It was a piece of information that she had shared with Cole and she knew that it made him feel special to have a small secret to share with a friend – like a real human would have.

“Nymeria, my dear, you look lovely this evening.” Dorian brushed up against her playfully and she blushed. Even though she knew Dorian was not interested in women, he was still a shameless flirt and he enjoyed making her blush. The man frowned ever so imperceptibly at the quick flash of disappointment in her large green eyes when she realized the man speaking to her was not who she was hoping for. Where was that damn elf?

“Come, my friend. Dance with me! You deserve a night of frivolity; after all, you did save the world so we could continue to drink and be merry.” He ignored her feeble protests and led her genteelly onto the dance floor. Knowing the hall would be watching the Inquisitor with bated breath, Nymeria steeled herself and danced with her best friend. As they twirled and breezed past dignitaries, Dorian would whisper little secrets about some as he passed, usually naughty rumors or embarrassing stories to help her lighten up and by the time the song ended Nymeria was laughing joyously.

Cullen watched in awe. He was just as enraptured by her as the other guests in the hall. Her laughter could only be compared to the ring of crystal glasses after a toast, leaving that delightful _hum_ in the air as the crystal reverberated. Her head was thrown back in a rare moment of joy and his heart ached for her. She probably would have been happier with her life back in the Free Marches with her clan, but here she was wearing a calm, collected mask every day as the Inquisitor. Corypheus might be defeated, but now she would have the task of helping Orlais and Ferelden get back on their feet. It would be a long recovery full of court intrigue and favors passing from one side to the other to finally piece the world together.

Yet, here she was. For one night she was free. Free to be herself and let her hair down – literally. Tonight, was the first time Cullen had ever seen her hair flowing in soft waves just past her shoulders instead of pulled up in some manner of up-do before a mission. She was a vision in her doeskin breeches dyed a rich brown and a tunic the color of ripe plums. The contrast of darker clothes against her platinum hair and pale skin only enhanced her elven features.

Realizing he was staring, he coughed and took a quick swig of his stout to hide his embarrassment. Glancing around the hall however, he discovered he was not the only one who was struggling to tear their eyes away from the woman who defeated a darkspawn magister. Everyone was under her spell tonight. And why shouldn’t they be? She was a remarkable woman who had done miraculous things: surviving the Breach, the Fade (twice!), enslaved Wardens, and even the Orlesian court to get here tonight. To say nothing of the numerous dragons she had purposely hunted.

Some nobles were whispering behind him and his ears pricked at their words. “Where is her suitor?”

“I have no idea. I haven’t seen him since they returned.” There was a gasp. “Do you think he died during the battle?!”

“Maker’s breath!” There was a short pause of reflection until one of the gossips spoke again. “It is sad, but every story needs a tragic ending, no?” She sighed melodramatically.

Cullen loosened the death grip he realized he had on his stein. He wanted to rush over there and put the nobles in their place, but he knew that would only fan the flames of their gossip mongering. Especially if they knew that Solas wasn’t dead, but had merely abandoned her with nary a word following the battle. Only a month after he had carelessly tossed her aside and magically removed her facial tattoos. What had she called them again? Valla-something. He closed his eyes and thought back to her first month as Inquisitor.

_He was standing on the battlements letting the cold air fill his lungs and clear his head. He’d recently informed the Inquisitor that he had stopped taking lyrium and this was a good way to help ease the headaches he experienced from withdrawal. A hesitant footfall behind him caused him to turn around. The Inquisitor was trying to sneak across the battlements. She paused when she realized he’d seen her and wrung her hands guiltily. “I apologize, Commander. I didn’t realize there was anyone here and I didn’t want to disturb you.”_

_Cullen smirked, unaware of the reaction it caused his companion. “No need to worry, Inquisitor. I come up here to clear my head...and hide from Jim when I need to escape the constant missives.”_

_“Call me Nymeria, please. I need to hear my name sometimes. I feel if one more person calls me ‘Inquisitor’ I might scream.” She blushed as she spoke, but whether that was from the request to be less formal or the admission of her feelings he could not say._

_“Then please, call me Cullen. I understand how hard a title can be to carry.”_

_“Thank you,” she whispered, a ghost of a smile on her face. “May I join you?”_

_Cullen chuckled. “It is your castle, Inqui – I mean, Nymeria.” It was his turn to blush and run a hand awkwardly through his dusty blond hair._

_“So strange to think that a little Dalish girl would be in charge of a castle, of all things.” He glanced sideways at her to see her worrying her bottom lip with her teeth._

_“Well, from what Solas has told us, it was an elven fortress when it was first built. I think it only right that it belongs to an elven leader again.” Cullen cleared his throat. Where did that come from? Not that he didn’t believe it, but he just didn’t expect his mouth to voice what was going through his head._

_Nymeria nodded and gave him a real smile, at last. “You’re right, Cullen. Thank you for putting that into perspective for me. So much has happened, so quickly, that I allowed myself to…doubt.”_

_“All of us struggle with doubt. It is what makes us human. . .er, that is to say – “_

_She laughed gently and placed a small hand on his arm. “It’s okay, Cullen. I know what you mean.” He glanced at her hand on his arm and felt his stomach flip upside down. He studied the woman before him. Small of stature and petite, like all elves, with large green eyes, a heart shaped mouth, and high cheekbones. And of course, the tattoos that marked her as Dalish: a delicate depiction of branches spreading across her forehead in a glistening shade of gold ink. Unconsciously, he reached out to touch the markings, but she leaned back so that his gloved fingers missed their target._

_“I – uh – that is, I do apologize.” He knew he was blushing furiously at his faux pas. “I was just, ahem, distracted by your tattoos.” She narrowed her eyes at him and he stuttered harder. “I-I mean, I have never – you are my first – Maker’s breath! Why can I not speak right now?” Nymeria hid her smile behind her hand while he rubbed his hand on his neck and grimaced. He took a deep breath to calm his jangled nerves and began again. “What I meant to say, is that I have never seen them before and I think they are quite…beautiful.”_

_She looked at him in surprise. “Thank you.” Nymeria paused, a definite blush highlighting her cheeks before deciding to continue. “They represent our gods. Each design is sacred to a specific one and I chose Mythal, Goddess of Justice. They are called vallaslin.”_

_“Vallaslin,“ he murmured, trying the new word and finding that he liked the way it just rolled off his tongue. They shared small, shy smiles and turned their attention back to the mountain vista. She kept her hand on his arm and his heart raced at her touch._

Remembering the word brought him back to his current surroundings in the hall at Josephine’s celebration. A new song was playing and Nymeria had a new partner in Blackwall, but Cullen was struck by how different her face looked without the markings. She was still breathtaking, yet he had to admit he missed the vallaslin, even if they were tattoos for her gods. They had been part of her and her Dalish identity and now they were just…erased. Much like Solas had erased himself from her life.

With a snarl, Cullen chugged the dregs of tepid stout in his mug and sidled over to Leliana. “Commander, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” He looked at her askance and coughed uncomfortably as she gave him a knowing look.

“Still no sign of him?”

Leliana blew out a frustrated sigh. “No. He’s vanished. He obviously does not want to be found. I have told the Inquisitor much the same.” Cullen nodded and rubbed his hand across his forehead aggressively in an attempt to beat back the looming headache.

“Damn it. I-I had hoped…”

“We all did,” Leliana whispered as she watched Nymeria twirl in the arms of her myriad companions. Her happiness was infectious, even managing to drag Cassandra out on the dance floor with Dorian, of all people! Varric was attempting to teach the dance steps to Morrigan’s son, Kieran. Leliana was surprised they stayed for the celebration, but then again, it seemed that Morrigan did want him to have the life she never had.

As if summoning her with her thoughts the witch joined the conversation. “Thank you for allowing Kieran to enjoy the party tonight. We are leaving on the morrow.”

“Of course, Morrigan. You’re welcome anytime – _all_ of you.” The unspoken name of the Hero of Ferelden hung in the air between them. Morrigan nodded her head in acknowledgment. They stood in silence for a few moments.

Morrigan cleared her throat and opened her mouth to speak, then paused uncertainly. She shook her head in irritation and continued. “His disappearance bodes ill, you know this, do you not?” Leliana stared at her with hooded eyes, wondering what information she could have about Solas. “With the reappearance of _Mother_ and his sudden…well, I may be a conspiracy theorist, but I feel they may be connected.”

Leliana blanched and borrowed a favored phrase of Varric’s. “Well, shit.”


	3. Chapter 3

Almost six months had passed in a blur since the final battle. Nymeria felt like a referee most days as she worked with all manner of nobility in multiple countries to bring order to Thedas. She relied heavily upon Josephine for advice in matters of state and varied human cultures when attempting to draft temporary legislation or sitting in her fourth round of peace talks between Tevinter and the South.

Thankfully, the in-person talks had been halted as winter began to set in. All of those involved were desirous of a break and no one wanted to be snowed in a foreign country for the season. The side passes leading to Skyhold were already becoming impassable, but the merchant’s highway was still in good condition. Josephine and the local traders had stocked up on goods to keep the castle running to make sure no one starved, in case the main highway should become snowed in and prevent the residents from accessing all they needed.

Cook had requested hundreds of pounds of salted druffalo meat for stews and fish for chowders, but Nymeria knew that they couldn’t survive an entire winter on salted meat. They would need fresh meat too, which she could track as a former hunter for her clan. Deer and rams were abundant in the mountains. She gave cook her own list of items she wanted ordered, including a hundred pounds of lentils, winterberries, and molasses. Nymeria intended to share some of her Dalish recipes for winterberry cakes sweetened with molasses and lentil soup as a protein source to give everyone a break from salt pork. Josephine had been inspired to do the same and had a special item imported from Antiva – a creamy dip for crackers or bite sized pieces of toast called hummus. The ambassador swore everyone would like it and it was also a good alternative protein to get the castle residents through the winter.

Nymeria felt certain that they were prepared to hunker down for the season and survive. She planned to hunt every couple of weeks, as long as the weather was good for tracking. Scout Harding had offered to be part of her hunting party and Nymeria could not deny her – she was undoubtedly the best scout in the Inquisition and her help would be invaluable. They had plans to set out for their first excursion in a couple of days so Nymeria was making sure that her bow was ready and that her arrows were restocked. Blackwall and Iron Bull were coming along to help the women bring their kill back to Skyhold. Nymeria insisted it wasn’t necessary for them to act as menial labor – she had been intending to use a litter to drag the spoils home, but the men were adamant that the Inquisitor wasn’t going out into the mountains without backup. She wanted to argue with them about her Dalish upbringing and justify her desire to travel light, but she couldn’t argue with their logic. She was no longer a Dalish hunter – she wasn’t even sure if she could still call herself Dalish, anymore.

Cole found her venting by the stables firing her bow with such force that her arrows were sticking through the back of the target with each hit. As the target became too crowded with arrows she would stomp over and mercilessly dig them out with her knife, leaving holes all over the target like scars. As the target became more scarred and less usable by the minute, Nymeria became more agitated with her shots – some would veer widely off course and others would only glance the target and bounce into the trees. The elf growled to herself in frustration.

“Breathe, relax, focus, release. You are angry because your bow is a part of you, an extension of yourself. But you do not know if you are yourself anymore. You question your right to be called Dalish,” Cole murmured behind her.

Nymeria’s shoulders drooped and she hung her head, resting her bow against her leg in shame. “Yes,” she whispered. “Everything I thought I was, everything I believed to be true, was wrong. Now, I am the Inquisitor for human lands and forced to…put aside my elven-ness.” She paused and ran her fingers lightly across her forehead where the tattoos had once been. “Even though the Dalish were wrong about the vallaslin and they represented something abhorrent, they were _mine_. They connected me to the People – now when I come across other Dalish clans they will believe me to be a ‘flat ear.’ I know it shouldn’t bother me, but it does.”

“Confused, conflicted, sad. So many emotions to sift through. How do people do it? How do you cope?” Cole kicked the ground and sighed. “I sometimes feel lost, too. Like I do not belong in this new state, but I am learning. One thing I have learned from you is that no one can make you feel small unless you let them.”

Nymeria smiled gently and took the young man’s hand in her own. “You’re right, Cole. I shouldn’t let them make me feel small or question my identity. I will work on making that part of me stronger. Thank you for helping me see.” She knew he was right, but she had lost so much in the past year and that many traumas could shake even a King’s confidence.

He smiled quickly in return. “Lips soft, feather light touch against skin, warmth traveling through your body as your heart races in your chest. A quick kiss that leaves you hungry for more. A summer for reconnecting and making new friends.” The elf was startled by his words as Cole pulled to the surface a memory of her first kiss by another Dalish boy.

She couldn’t have been more than ten and he was maybe twelve. It was a simple summer crush that was fostered during the meeting of the clans that took place every few years. It was here that clans would swap eligible bachelors and bachelorettes to keep the clans from becoming inbred, as well as any children showing signs of magic to clans that needed a First. If there were too many mages in a single clan it could be a death wish for them if any Templars found out.

Rasha had been swarthy to her fair with a mischievous air and a constant grin. All the young girls had been enraptured by his easy charm and he flirted shamelessly with them all to feed the flames of their obsession. When he had kissed her behind an aravel in the cool of the evening, Nymeria had believed that she alone was the one that had caught his eye. Only she saw him bestowing an even more heated kiss with another elven girl later that night, once most of the adults were too busy catching up with each other to chaperone the youngsters. Her face flamed in humiliation as she saw his hand trail under the elven girl’s tunic and up to squeeze her budding breast. Even from across the camp Nymeria imagined she could hear the girl’s lusty moan and she backed into the shadows before she could be spotted and turned tail to run. She purposely avoided him the rest of that summer and was not sad to see the clans depart a few weeks later. Nymeria had decided that she would marry one of her own clan mates when the time came, because she already knew them all and how they would treat her. She did not want to risk being with an unfaithful husband who would not fully commit to her or her children.

She shook her head sadly at the idea of a family. Solas was gone. That dream was dead, because she wasn’t sure she could trust anyone, much less love them, after that betrayal. Cole brushed away the tears that had begun to fall of their own accord. “Don’t cry,” he murmured. “You’re too pretty to cry.” She began to sob in earnest. How could she be beautiful? Her vallaslin was gone. The man she had given her heart to and had hoped to share her life and her body with had left without a word. He too, had called her beautiful that night in the glade and in almost the same breath he told her that he could no longer be with her.

Strong arms wrapped around her and pulled her into his lean chest to let her cry all the heart break that she had been avoiding for months into his shirt. Her legs began to give out from sheer exhaustion, but he supported her effortlessly and murmured that she was strong and brave and beautiful in her ear over and over as a balm to her wounded heart. Eventually the tears dried and the sobs became little hiccups and emotional exhaustion took its place. Cole slipped an arm under her knees and gently held her against his chest as he took the back stairs from the stables through the kitchens and used the side stairwells that led to her turret.

He knew she was exhausted and that the emotional breakdown had been a long time coming. And he had enough wherewithal to know that no one, save her closest friends, should see the Inquisitor in such a state. He entered Josephine’s study and the Antivan gasped, but he quickly shook his head and jerked it towards the door leading to the hall. She immediately understood and made some excuses to the nobles about the Inquisitor being unable to hear petitions today as she was indisposed and asked that they please vacate the hall so she could rest. There were minor rumbles of discontent, but soon the hall was silent and Josephine waved Cole through. He gave her a nod of thanks as he passed and then they were finally away from prying eyes in her private stairwell.

Nymeria had fallen asleep listening to his heart beat and Cole couldn’t help smiling at how peaceful she finally seemed. He reached her bed and realized that he didn’t want to put her down. He wanted to keep holding her, to protect her, to keep her safe. He wanted to always tell her how beautiful and strong and brave she was and how much she inspired him and entire nations. The protectiveness was a new feeling and he stood there, hesitantly, trying to understand the emotion and where it came from. Normally, he would have gone to Solas to discuss any new emotions or ideas, but since he was gone, he would have to ask Varric instead.

Cole knew he could not hold her in his arms all night, so he finally laid her gently upon the bed and carefully removed her shoes so she wouldn’t track dirt on the bed. He did not want to disturb her accidentally by drawing back the sheets, so instead he took the fuzzy throw off the couch and draped it across her body. The sun was setting and the balcony doors were open, filling the room with cold air. He went to each door and latched them shut and began to stoke the fire, even adding a few more logs to get it roaring again.

Realizing there was little else he could do right now as Nymeria slept, he brushed the little flecks of bark and dirt from his hands and headed for the stairs. Cole paused at the foot of her bed, however, unsettled by the flip flop of his stomach as he watched her sleep. He thought back to the memory of her stolen kiss as a child and now it was his turn to burn with shame as the image of his hand cupping her breasts in the moonlight sent a flash of heat and want past his gut. He could feel himself hardening, which was another first, and he wanted…he needed… _something_ , but he didn’t know what.

He crept back to the head of the bed without realizing it and before he could lose his nerve, he leaned down and placed his lips chastely against Nymeria’s. She moaned in her sleep and she opened her mouth slightly to give her dream lover better access. Cole knew he should stop, but he was curious. He had seen others kiss like this around Skyhold, but he’d never had any desire to try it himself until this very moment. Hesitantly, he opened his mouth too, and jerked slightly at the feel of her tongue dancing across his own. He moved his own against hers and quickly realized that he enjoyed the sensation of their tongues caressing each other.

Cole groaned as the kiss deepened further, wrapping his hand around her neck, holding her head at the perfect angle so he could taste every inch of her mouth. Nymeria moaned again and slipped her hand around his shoulders, ran her fingers up along his neck, and froze when she felt his long hair. She pulled away with a gasp, a confused expression on her face when her eyes registered that it was not Solas in front of her like her dream led her to believe, but her friend Cole.

“I – I’m sorry. So so sorry. I didn’t mean to – I should not have.” He stood in a rush, his normally pale skin aflame with embarrassment, but his eyes were still smoldering with desire. Cole backed away and practically ran down the stairs and out the door. Nymeria reminded herself to breathe when the door slammed behind him.

“Creators – did I just kiss Cole and _like it_?” Nymeria laid against her pillows and chewed her lower lip in thought. Either it had been too long since she had been kissed (most likely) or she just really enjoyed kissing Cole. There was no mistaking that he had enjoyed kissing her. He had warmed up to the kiss quickly and she had to admit he was a quick learner. He kissed with a passion that was on par with Solas, which surprised her.

Her heart panged briefly at the comparison between the men. It wasn’t fair to judge Cole beside Solas. She had been in love with Solas, but even she could admit that he wasn’t coming back and she could have a physical relationship with anyone she wanted. She and Solas had never gone beyond kissing, but there had always been a part of her that wanted to move to making love. Cole would not have been the person she probably would have chosen, but you take what you can get when your former lover disappeared and no other men had shown interest.

Unable to help herself, she began to consider all the men in the Inquisition as an idea started to grow in her head. Dorian was out because she lacked the appropriate parts to interest him. Blackwall and Iron Bull were simply not her type. Varric was older and a dwarf, but he had such charm and charisma and he smelled so good! She could see herself pursuing Varric, if only because he would most likely be a kind lover and she could trust him. Cole was gentle and sweet, but obviously a well of deep-rooted passion – that might be fun to explore, seeing as how they were both new to this. Her thoughts drifted to Cullen, the enigmatic Commander of the army. Oh yes, she could die happy in that man’s embrace, watching him smirk with that scar on his lip and running her fingers through his sandy blond hair.

The more she considered the options, the more torn she became. All of the men were upstanding gentlemen, with good looks and gentleness tempered against strength. She knew first-hand how strong they all were physically; she’d seen them fight and train numerous times. But she also knew how kind and attentive they were. She was tired of moping and the fire that was coiled in the pit of her stomach after her kiss with Cole reminded her that she was still alive and it was time to move on. She might always care for Solas, but she was not a Chantry priest and she did not need to live like one.

Nymeria smiled at the ceiling and continued to think of the possibilities. She would have to spend more time with each man in turn and see how things progressed. Her first stop would be to Cole to see if he was okay and let him know that she was not angry with him – if anything, she should be thanking him for showing her that it was possible to move on. The never-ending sadness that had dogged her for so long had been temporarily beaten back and Nymeria fell asleep peacefully for the first time in months.


	4. Chapter 4

Nymeria awoke well rested and happy for the first time in a long while. She’d fallen asleep in her clothes from the previous day and so the first order of business would be a bath and change of clothing. Stepping into the little room behind her bed she rolled the small wooden tub in front of the fire and walked down the stairs to ask a passing servant to send some water up for a bath. With a quick bow the servant ran off in the direction of the kitchens and soon there was a small parade of staff carefully carrying buckets of warm water. Once all the buckets had been emptied and the tub was half full, Nymeria thanked them and they left the Inquisitor to her own devices.

She opened the top drawer of her wardrobe and collected her toiletries – her favorite orange blossom soap and oat milk and honey shampoo that she splurged on in Val Royeaux. One of the servants had thoughtfully left her a rinsing bowl and a clean wash cloth beside the tub, which reminded her to grab one of her drying towels from the wardrobe. Shucking her clothes, Nymeria carefully dipped a toe into the water and was relieved to find it was not too hot. With a contented sigh she stepped into the tub and settled down into the water.

It was not a large tub so it did not allow for full submersion, which suited her fine. The elven woman only wanted to get clean and feel fresh again. She didn’t require a full soak in a deep tub of bubbles, even though she had to admit the experience in the Winter Palace had been a lovely one. She quickly lathered her cloth and scrubbed her skin until it was soft and fragrant and then dipped the rinsing bowl into the water and dumped it over her head to wet her hair. Once her hair was clean and rinsed, she stood up and wrung as much of the water out of her strands as possible and then wrapped herself in her towel. It was nice and warm as it had been facing the embers of the fire from last night. Drying her body and her hair as quickly as she could Nymeria dressed for the day in her favorite casual wear of nugskin breeches and a silk brocade tunic. Deciding it was too cold to let her hair air dry on her shoulders, she pulled it into a ponytail and headed out of the tower.

Her face instantly flamed to see Varric across the hall in his usual spot. Thankfully his back was to her as he was writing letters at the table, the remains of his breakfast pushed off to the side and forgotten. As she passed one of the tables, Nymeria snagged an orange and peeled it as she walked. It gave her hands something to do while she consciously slowed her heart rate and willed the blush on her face to recede.

“Good morning, Varric. I’m not disturbing you, am I?” She was hovering next to the chair beside him, when he looked up and smiled warmly.

“Not at all, Blossom. Just finishing up a letter to the Merchant’s Guild in Kirkwall. They’ve been hounding me to return and handle my affairs in person.” He sighed heavily and rubbed a large hand across his brow. “I suppose they’re right. I’m informing them that I will leave for the Free Marches with the spring thaw.”

Nymeria was glad the chair was already so close to her butt because her legs suddenly gave out and she fell onto it. “You’ll be leaving then. I-I see. Of course, you have to. You have responsibilities.” Varric watched her fiddle mindlessly with her orange and carelessly drop orange peel all over the floor.

“Are you okay, Blossom?” He reached across the table and gently laid his hand across her much smaller one. Her eyes flicked to his face and she sighed.

“Yes, I’m fine, Varric. I’m just sad to be losing another friend. Of course, I knew this day would come eventually. I guess, I was just hoping it never would.” She smiled sadly and popped an orange wedge in her mouth.

Varric frowned. “That can’t be all you eat for breakfast, Blossom. I know that most flowers subsist on sunshine and water alone, but you are not most flowers and you need more than a single piece of fruit.” The dwarf waved to a kitchen servant and pointed at the Inquisitor. The servant bobbed his head in understanding and began to fill the Inquisitor a plate from the breakfast buffet. Nymeria didn’t have the heart to tell Varric no, so she thanked him and the servant who brought her a plate filled with eggs and bacon and a winterberry molasses muffin. The addition of the muffin was reason to smile and she tucked into it first.

Varric continued to watch her carefully as she ate and noticed that she seemed to be more rested than she had been in a while. The slight bruising under her eyes looked lighter than they had yesterday and he could smell her orange soap and honey shampoo without having to lean in, which meant that she was using her favorite things again. Not the unscented, cheap soap he knew she nicked from the servant’s pantry. She had avoided using her favorite items because he knew they reminded her of Solas, but it seemed she might be coming around again, at last. He frowned deeply at the thought of what he would do or say to that good-for-nothing elf if he ever showed his face again.

Nymeria finished her plate and sighed happily. She was hungrier than she realized and she was suddenly very grateful that Varric made sure she ate a full breakfast. Turning to face her friend, she began to blush again as she remembered the mad plan she had to seduce him last night. His warm brown eyes were twinkling and the corners of his lips were tilted up in a smirk.

“Feel better?” She nodded, slightly embarrassed by how much she ate, but Varric only chuckled happily. “Good. Got to put some meat on those skinny little elf bones of yours.”

“Varric, have you seen Cole today? I need to speak to him, but I didn’t want to have to search the entire castle grounds for him.”

He leaned back in his chair and thought carefully. “I thought I saw him by the throwing dagger training ring earlier. He must really be working through something with how hard he was working out there.”

Nymeria’s heart sank. Poor Cole – more than likely he assumed he’d done something wrong and while kissing her when she was asleep was not necessarily _right_ , he had not crossed any lines that he could not come back from. She needed to speak with him immediately and ease his mind. “Thank you. I have to go find him. Thank you again for making sure I ate. You’re the best, Varric.” She gave him a hug and brushed a chaste kiss on his scratchy cheek before she stood up and left the hall to find Cole.

She ran down the stairs to the stables and did not see him next to the archery or throwing daggers targets. She went back up the staircase and headed for the tavern to see if he was in his usual spot, but no luck. Blowing out a frustrated breath, she walked downstairs to ask Iron Bull if he had seen him, but Bull hadn’t noticed him because he’d been too distracted with the serving girls. As she was leaving the building the bartender told her he saw the boy on the battlements earlier that morning.

Nymeria quickly headed upstairs through the building and out onto the battlements. A brisk wind nearly bowled her over when she left the warmth of the tavern. _I should have grabbed a cloak before I left. It’s winter, for Creator’s sake!_

“Cole! Cole, where are you?” The elf shivered and her teeth began to chatter together the longer she stayed outside. But she wasn’t going to give up on him. She needed to clear the air between them. She finally found him on the battlements above the garden. “Cole, I need to speak to you.”

The young man looked at her in surprise and then he realized she was shivering. “You shouldn’t be out here. You’ll freeze.” He slipped off his jacket and placed it around her shoulders.

“Thank you,” she whispered. It was warm against her chilled skin. He must be more human than before because he’d never put off body heat in the past. As another blast of wind rushed along the battlements Cole shivered from the cold and it further confirmed her suspicions. “We both need to get inside. It’s too cold to be outside for long.”

He nodded. “I know a place.” Cole took her hand and led her to one of the many unused bedrooms along the battlements. There was no fireplace, but at least they were sheltered from the cold so they could talk. There was a small bed tucked against a wall and with nowhere else to sit except the dirty floor, the two rogues sat side by side on the bed.

Cole was tapping his foot anxiously against the floor like he did when he was nervous or confused or otherwise bothered about something. It must be very frightening to suddenly become human and have to learn how to handle emotions. To all the world he appeared to be a grown man, but he was really like a small child.

Nymeria sighed to herself. Even if Cole was attracted to her and was becoming more human, attempting any kind of relationship with him would be akin to molestation. He was so childlike and innocent and there was the risk of him becoming too attached and the last thing she ever wanted to do was break his heart. He needed more time to adjust to this new way of life – of thinking, of feeling, of living. Maybe in another year or two, he would make someone happy, but it wouldn’t be her.

“Cole,” she took his hand again and smiled gently. “I am not angry.” He glanced at her through his overlong bangs uncertainly.

“But I didn’t ask permission and then I kept going when I knew I should have stopped – “

She placed a finger lightly across his lips and the man instantly stilled. “I know, but it’s still okay. You did not go any further and you didn’t continue to push when you realized that.” She sighed and removed her hand. “Besides, I was encouraging you. I am not angry.” Nymeria cleared her throat. “I actually want to thank you.”

Cole was staring at her like she had three heads. “Why – why would you thank me for taking advantage of you?”

Nymeria shook her head. “You did not take advantage, first off. Secondly, after you left, I realized that I enjoyed the kiss. I’m tired of moping around and being sad. I used to think that I had to be a martyr to my sadness and never let myself be happy because of what happened, but now I realize how wrong that is.” She looked at him and smiled. “I’m allowed to move on and be happy with someone else, if I want to. And enough time has passed now that I would like to try.”

They sat in silence for a few heartbeats letting the words sink in. Cole nodded slowly. “You’re right, you should be happy.” He paused. “But not with me,” he murmured.

Nymeria’s heart threatened to break into a million pieces. She hugged him tightly for a moment while she swallowed the tears that traitorously made an appearance. “No, sweet boy. I think you are very sweet and one day you will make a woman very happy. But right now...right now your emotions are so new, so raw, that I do not want to hurt you accidentally.” She leaned back so she could look him in the eyes. “I-I do not know if I can ever fully commit my heart to someone again. I don’t want to break your heart if that ends up being the case.” Nymeria tilted his head up to see him better under his mop of hair. “Do you understand, Cole?”

The young man nodded. “You can commit your body to a man, but not your heart right now.” He blushed and bit his lip. “Is it wrong to say that I would be okay with that?”

The elven woman sat there in stunned silence for a moment. “You…you would? Why? Why would you be okay with such an arrangement?”

Cole fluttered his hands nervously. “You are right that I am...new to being human, but if I am going to find out how to be a man with a woman…in her bed…then I would want it to be with someone I trust.”

Nymeria’s heart was lodged in her throat as anxiety exploded in her chest. “You would not rather wait for someone special? Someone you could love in both body and soul?”

Cole whispered, “What if she does not exist for someone like me?"

Nymeria closed her eyes in anguish. He was right, of course. There was a good chance that no woman would be interested in the young man. They would only see his strangeness, not his kind and gentle soul. She knew that he was just learning to be human, but she also knew who Cole was and she did hold a small candle for him. She would be lying if she said she didn’t. Last night was proof that she could easily fall into bed with him, but it could never happen.

“No, Cole. Please, do not misunderstand me. I care for you and under different circumstances I would be willing. But I do not think you are _emotionally_ ready for that sort of relationship. Something like that is more than simply physical. I am only concerned for your well-being. It would kill me to hurt you, you know that.” She laid a gentle hand across his face.

He placed his own calloused hand against her cheek. “You could never hurt me, Nymeria,” he whispered. It was the first time he’d ever said her name and it sent heat directly to her core, despite her protestations that they should not move further. He leaned in and kissed her and she sat there frozen in shock, until the longing to be wanted roared to life within her gut and she gave in. It was gentle and sweet as they softly caressed each other’s lips.

Nymeria pulled back first and sighed. “We shouldn’t pursue this. I’m so sorry.” She gently swept his bangs from his gray eyes, letting her fingers linger on his cheek for a brief moment. “Come, let’s go back inside where there are actually fireplaces for warmth.” The young man said nothing, but followed her obediently back to the tavern.

Once they were back at Cole’s favored spot in the tavern, Nymeria returned his jacket to him and gave his hand a parting squeeze. “I will be out hunting tomorrow. It will give us both time to think. I think we need some space to process everything.”

Cole nodded. “Yes. That is good. Be safe in the mountains.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other as though he wanted to say something more, but he did not.

Nymeria smiled softly and made her way back to the castle. There was someone else she needed to speak to now.


	5. Chapter 5

Once inside the castle she made her way to the library and found Dorian in his lounge chair reading a book. She could not make out the title since the lettering on the spine had mostly flaked off or faded away from centuries of being handled.

“Dorian, do you have a moment?”

The man peeked over his book inquisitively and paid close attention to the anxiety that was radiating off the young elven woman. He grabbed a scrap of paper and used it as a bookmarker so he could set the book aside. “I’m listening, my dear.”

She glanced around furtively. “Not here. Come to my chambers, we can speak openly there.”

Dorian’s eyes widened and he unconsciously smoothed his mustache as he tried to understand his friend’s odd behavior. Nymeria scampered down the stairs and he gave it a few heartbeats before he casually stood and exited the library. This was obviously a mission of some discretion, so Dorian weaved in and out of the crowd in the hall instead heading directly for the Inquisitor’s tower. Once he reached her door the mage opened it silently and slipped through making sure to close it gently behind him. “I’m coming up. I do hope you are decent,” he announced as he came up the stairs.

Nymeria was sitting on her bed squeezing a pillow to her chest and biting her lower lip nervously. Dorian took a seat on the couch across from her bed and waited for the woman to speak.

“Dorian, I-I think I need – You know that Solas is gone…Creators save me, this is embarrassing.”

“I hope this is not a proposal of some sort. You do know that you are not quite my type,” he chuckled dryly.

“No, I need your advice.” She swallowed hard and forced herself to speak what was on her mind. “I have finally reached a place where I can move on from…” she sighed heavily. “Anyway, I was considering men in the Inquisition that I find both attractive and available and I came up with three names.”

Dorian held up a hand. “Let me guess, shall I? Our illustrious Commander in his delicious armor, Iron Bull’s mountain of muscle, and hmmmm? I suppose…Blackwall? His beard is at least manly enough.” He smirked at his own cleverness.

Nymeria blushed scarlet. “Commander Cullen, yes. Blackwall and Bull, no.”

“Really?” Dorian seemed surprised. “But who else is there?” He paused for a moment and then blurted, “Oh Blessed Andraste, please don’t say Harritt. I swear, my dear, you are my friend but even friendship has limits.”

The elf giggled. “Ugh, no! I was thinking more along the lines of Varric and…Cole.”

The last name she whispered so softly that Dorian almost missed it. He slumped back against the cushions with a slack jawed expression in utter shock. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, giving Nymeria the impression of a mustachioed fish gasping for air. He finally regained control of himself and cleared his throat. “Varric is an odd choice, but I can see the appeal. I admit his aftershave smells intoxicating. But that last one…did you say Cole?”

She nodded and bit her lip again. Dorian closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead in aggravation. “Darling, if you want to experiment with men, which is where I assume this conversation is heading, I would prefer you go to bed with _me_ as opposed to a spirit in the flesh. Women may not be my go-to, but I am not without understanding how it works.”

Nymeria couldn’t help herself. “Why Dorian, I had no idea you were offering.” He glanced at her with a thunderous expression, but her sudden fit of laughter melted his anger.

“Ha ha, very funny, but do not change the subject. You cannot actually be considering a relationship with Cole.”

She wrung her hands nervously. “Normally, I would agree with you, but Cole is becoming more human every day. I know that feelings are confusing and sometimes alarming for him and I’ve explained that to him, but Dorian –“ Nymeria swallowed desperately to wet her dry mouth and throat. “There is something about him. I don’t know what it is, but it is deeply attractive.”

“There is something you’re not telling me.” Dorian squinted at her. “Has something already happened between you two?” Nymeria closed her eyes and sighed heavily before diving into the story of what took place last night and then today on the battlements. He stood up and ran his hands through his perfect coif, pacing aggressively around her room as she spoke. When she finished speaking, Dorian was tapping his foot in a steady staccato on the stone floor.

“I see.” He spun around to face her. “You’ve already half seduced the spirit boy and you want me to…to what? _Condone_ this behavior?!” Nymeria froze in shock at his tone. “First Solas and now this. How is this any better than what that blasted ingrate did to you? You fall for one man who cruelly refused to give you his heart in return and now you are steps away from falling into a bed with another who does not understand feelings and could end up hurting you again.”

Dorian rubbed his temples and shook his head aggressively. “I cannot watch you go through that again. I am too much of a friend to let you do something you will regret, Nymeria.” He looked at her with sad eyes. “My advice is this: go for Cullen. He is already human and has been all his life. He’s also quite handsome and I dare say you would not be dissatisfied with him. Put this foolishness of romancing Cole behind you.”

Nymeria nodded sadly. She knew that Dorian was right, of course, and she knew that she would be happy in a relationship with Cullen. But Cole’s face – flushed and gray eyes dark with desire – danced tauntingly across her mind. She recalled the passionate way he’d kissed her last night and then the gentle way he had explored her mouth today. Her head told her it was a bad idea, but her body was screaming for more of the young man.

Of course, it could just be simple lust clouding her reasoning. In fact, that’s most assuredly what it was. When she thought of Cullen, she thought of a man of contrasts; calm exterior hiding his struggle with lyrium addiction and a passionate side that he rarely displayed, but that she and the other advisors had seen on occasion. And Dorian was right, he was a man (maybe not fully in tuned with his feelings), but no one was perfect. Unless you were talking about physical perfection, because Cullen definitely had that going for him.

Dorian watched the desire settle across her features: her mouth open slightly as her heart rate increased, the flush to her usually pale skin, the quick flick of her tongue across her lips. He shook his head in resignation, assuming that she was still thinking about Cole. “Fine. I see that you will not listen to reason.” Nymeria opened her mouth to reply, but Dorian held up a hand to silence her justifications. “No, no. You asked for my advice and I have given it. This is your life and my pleas for sanity and reason are falling on deaf ears. I will be in the library getting gloriously shitfaced if you need me, Inquisitor.” 

Nymeria watched him leave weighed down by an air of sadness that was so unlike the mage and cringed when the door to her chambers slammed shut at his exit, ringing out like a death knell. She fell back on her bed and buried her face in her pillow, crying her confusion and hurt into the downy softness.

*~*

The next day, Nymeria, Scout Harding, Iron Bull and Blackwall were traipsing about the mountains, tracking a small herd of rams. Harding and Nymeria were trying to get some decent cover that was downwind of the rams so they could pick off a few, but cover was hard to come by. There were pine trees on the lower levels of the mountain, but they had climbed so high that there were only scrubby bushes, now dead and buried in snow leaving them exposed to the elements and to their prey.

A sudden shift in the wind caught Nymeria’s attention. On the horizon to the east a large storm was brewing. It was black and threatened to fill the entire span of eastern sky. She jerked her head in the direction of the storm to her companions who all swore under their breath. That was the direction home and even if they left this very minute they would be walking directly into the heart of the storm and most likely die from exposure.

“We need to find a cave to hunker down for the night. We can try to pick up the trail or find a new one tomorrow.” The elf stared at the incoming storm and sighed. “Provided the weather is good, that is.” Her companions agreed that the hunt was postponed until further notice and they carefully picked their way back down, hoping to see a cave or even a cleft in the rock to act as temporary shelter.

Blackwall pointed and yelled over the wind. “There! I think I see a hole in the mountain. It could be a cave.” Nymeria smiled and gave him a quick pat on the back as they moved in the direction he indicated. It was slightly southwest of their location, putting them further away from Skyhold, but there was nothing they could do. The dark clouds were closer than before and threatening to open up at any minute. The wind had already begun to pick up and was swirling snow furiously around them, making it hard to navigate the uneven terrain.

It felt like hours of trudging through snow and bracing her body against the harsh wind before they reached the depression in the rock that the warrior had pointed out. It was a cave – not very deep, but deep enough that it should keep most of the wind out. Her main concern was becoming buried by the snow. Nymeria knew that if the wind shifted and caused the snow to drift then it could potentially cover the entrance to their cave, effectively sealing them in. She did not like the idea of having to dig herself out or worse, dying in a shallow cave when her fortress was only a day’s hike away.

They began to set camp. They needed a fire, but they couldn’t use fuel that was too smoky or they would suffocate. There did not seem to be any indication that the cave they were in had any type of ventilation. This place could become their tomb as easily as it had become their shelter from the blizzard. Nymeria suddenly wished she’d brought a mage with them. Magical fire did not set off fumes and could be warded from going out, but they would have to make do. Harding produced some tinder from her backpack and Bull pulled out the dry wood they brought with them from his larger pack.

After getting a small fire going for some warmth the four of them settled their bedrolls around it and tried to ease their worries by sharing stories. There was no way to determine the passage of time as the sky was now completely black and it had turned into an all-out blizzard outside, so they talked and laughed until the rogues had a hard time keeping their eyes open. Blackwall volunteered for first watch so the women could sleep.

He watched the wind push the sheets of thick snow into deep drifts burying smaller trees and only leaving the uppermost branches of the tallest trees visible. The warrior frowned. They had packed enough provisions for four days in the mountains, but his main concern was being able to track their way back to Skyhold, provided this blizzard didn’t last four days. Even if the storm abated, all of the trail markers of bright yellow cloth that he’d wrapped around the barren trees would most likely be obscured by all the snow. They had a general idea of the direction they needed to hike back, but without landmarks or trail markers in a landscape washed completely white…it would be very easy to get turned around and walk in circles until they ran out of provisions. And even though everyone at Skyhold knew they had gone hunting, no one had any idea which way they’d gone and any signs of their trail would be long hidden.

Maker’s balls, they were in big trouble.


	6. Chapter 6

Back at Skyhold the blizzard was pummeling the fortress and all the occupants were barricading themselves in against the onslaught of Mother Nature. Cullen was thankful he’d finally had the roof replaced on his tower so his room was not a giant snow pile. However, he wasn’t currently using his chambers as the temperature had dropped so precipitously that without a fireplace in his room he was at risk of hypothermia. Josephine set the Commander up with a nice room in the main fortress with a hearth. Most of the nobles had departed since Corypheus’ defeat and the nicer rooms in the main body of the castle were available for use again. Cullen had to admit the room was very nice – richly decorated with dark wood furniture and a comfortable mattress on the bed. Even though he valued his privacy, he had spoken to the ambassador about making it his winter quarters since the fireplace was heavenly and he hadn’t realized how much he missed having warmth at night until he’d switched rooms.

It was day three of the blizzard and everyone in the castle was becoming worried about the Inquisitor’s hunting party. There had been no signs of them, which most likely meant they were probably waiting out the storm in the mountains. He hoped that was the case, anyway. The commander didn’t even want to consider the other possibility. One of his scouts had reported that it seemed the storm was beginning to lessen, but he couldn’t see any truth behind the words.

The snow might not be falling as heavily, yes; however, the wind was still as strong as a gale blowing fresh falling snow and unpacked snow from twelve-foot drifts violently across the landscape. It was still a white-out. Until the wind finally died down, they would not be able to risk sending a search party out, nor could they expect that the Inquisitor would be foolish enough to brave the lack of visibility and head back.

 _Blessed Andraste, I hope she’s alright._ Cullen knew he had no right to admit his feelings for the young elven woman, especially as she was still deeply affected by the abandonment of her former lover. He growled to himself. Solas had no right to woo her and tell her he loved her, knowing full well that in the end he was going to walk away and break her heart. Cullen was aware there was a long line of people that wanted to beat him to a pulp should he ever return, but he hoped he could be first in line.

Unable to stand being idle, he wandered the castle, exploring areas he’d never really paid attention to during their campaign. He found himself in the lower levels and discovered a small room with the Inquisitor’s collection of rare spirits – one shelf was dedicated to Grey Wardens personal brews. How did she manage to find all of them, he wondered?

One room over he discovered an untouched library full of dust and cobwebs as large as a man, but it was a veritable treasure trove of ancient tomes. He would have to send someone down here to clean it out and catalog it, as soon as possible. Cullen may be martially minded as the Commander of the Inquisition’s army, but that did not mean he did not respect knowledge. Without the tutelage of the Chantry, his own education would not have been nearly as thorough as it was. He was grateful to the Chantry for that, at least.

He left the small room and headed toward the main library upstairs. He knew there were still a few Tranquil who had remained to assist the Inquisition even after the mages left. They were just who he needed to catalog the find downstairs. After speaking to Helisma about the library and receiving her assurance to have it cleaned and organized, Cullen decided while he was there to find a book to read. There was naught else he or his troops could do in the current weather and he needed a distraction before he went mad with anxiety.

As he was perusing the shelves for something of interest, Dorian appeared at his side. Cullen glanced at him, but the man seemed intent on searching the shelves, so he nodded absently in silent greeting and continued to read the titles. Unfortunately everything on the shelf he was looking at seemed to be about magical theory. Where were the historical books? He could have sworn the Inquisition had been gifted a copy of Genitivi’s _Pursuit of Knowledge_. The commander sighed and moved to another shelf. Maybe each shelf was dedicated to a specific subject.

A couple of heartbeats later the Tevinter mage followed him to the next shelf. This time he looked at the mage directly with a slight frown and was immediately tipped off by the man’s feigned expression of innocence. “Yes, Dorian? Did you need something?”

Dorian looked at him with false surprise. “Commander! What a wonderful surprise! Ready for another game of chess?” The mage wiggled his eyebrows teasingly, “Or maybe…Wicked Grace?” Cullen blushed and sputtered to Dorian’s delight. He laughed jublilantly. “Now, now, Cullen. You’ll have to play again sometime. How else is the lovely Inquisitor supposed to get any eye candy?”

Cullen glanced around quickly, but noticed that the library was empty save for the two of them. “What do you want, Dorian,” the man demanded through gritted teeth.

Dorian also shot a quick look around to make doubly sure they were alone and dropped his voice to a whisper. “You should know, Nymeria admitted to me before she went on this hunt that she was thinking of moving on from Solas.” The mage’s face resembled the dark weather when he spit the elf’s name.

“Well, that is good. She should move on. Now excuse me, please.” Cullen made to move around the man before he learned more than he wanted to know about the Inquisitor’s next potential lover.

“Kaffas,” Dorian swore as he rolled his eyes and grabbed the man the arm. “You Southerners can be quite dense, do you know that?” Cullen frowned in confusion. “My dear man, she is interested in _you_.” Dorian let it sink in for a moment, watching with satisfaction as his words dawned on the other man.

“You cannot be serious. Me? But, but…I have never even shown her any kind…I mean, of course, she is beautiful and I would like– er, that is to say–”

Dorian chucked softly. “Cullen, she is not blind to your good looks and kind heart any more than you are ignorant of hers. But I must tell you that if you do not let her know that you would reciprocate her affection soon, she may make a worse mistake with someone else than she did with Solas.”

The commander looked at the mage in confusion. “What do you mean? How so?”

Dorian sighed heavily. “Because you are not the only…man she has expressed interest in and this time she would be diving into a terrible relationship on purpose.”

The blond narrowed his eyes dangerously as he considered the other possibilities in the castle. The only one who could potentially scream “danger” was Iron Bull, but he did not think the Qunari would be her type.

“Who?”

Dorian looked at him, sadly. “Cole.”

“WHAT?!?” Cullen leapt back as though what Dorian said was catching. His mind was reeling at the information. He threw a hand out to hold the bookshelf and anchor himself. Dorian noticed that he gripped the wood so tightly his knuckles were likely white under his gloves. “Why? Why would she choose that…that thing? How could she possibly think that would be a good idea?”

Dorian shook his head. “I do not know. I asked her much the same thing and she couldn’t give me a straight answer. If you want my personal opinion, I think Solas has done more damage to her than we realized and this is her messed up way of working through it.” Cullen continued to stare at him in dazed confusion, shaking his head harder with every word.

“I still fail to understand how a relationship with a spirit is ‘working through’ something.” Cullen ran a hand over his face wearily. “I think I need to sit down.” Dorian moved quickly to clear his favorite armchair and waved at the blond to sit. Cullen nodded his thanks as he sank into it.

Dorian fluttered his hands nervously. He was not good at nursing people or being supportive in general. He was a selfish, spoiled only child of a noble house in a selfish, spoiled country that dreamed of being world conquerors again, but he would do his best. He needed Cullen to realize the magnitude of their dilemma so the man of action could be spurred to get out of his comfort zone and _do_ something about the problem they were facing.

“I have had a few days to think about what she told me. I cannot be sure that I am correct, mind you, but I believe that part of her problem lies in feelings.” Dorian paused to organize his thoughts and Cullen waited impatiently. “Solas led her on all the way to the end, even removing her tattoos, her very _identity_ and then told her he could not be with her after he did so.”

“I’m sorry…did you say he removed her vallaslin the _same night_ he ended their relationship?”

Dorian nodded. “Yes. He took her to an old elven site. It was apparently very romantic – a pond by moonlight, words of love whispered, tattoos erased, and ‘oh, by the way, I can’t be with you anymore,’ leaving our darling Nymeria standing ALONE by this moonlit pond.”

“That – that bastard,” Cullen growled. Dorian nodded.

“You have no idea. Since then, Nymeria has been afraid to trust her feelings, obviously. Something like that takes time to get over. I think that is part of Cole’s allure. He is only recently human-ish and feelings are new for him. Maybe she assumes that if he doesn’t have such deep feelings for her, she cannot be hurt. But I know that the opposite is true.” He began to pace and wave his hands erratically in the air.

“Don’t you see, Cullen? Cole is much like any young man who is first beginning to experience feelings for another person. Especially romantic feelings. He is too young and inexperienced, not to mention the whole not-completely-human aspect of this scenario. She is at just as much risk of another heartbreak, if not more, since Cole is navigating how to be human and manage his everyday experiences on top of sexual desire.”

The mage paused in his tirade. “Damn! How could I have missed that?” Cullen waved the man to continue. He was very grateful to be seated for this revelation the Tevinter was dumping in his lap. Dorian sighed and ran an aggravated hand through his hair. “Nymeria and Solas never… _consummated_ their relationship. I think she assumes, wrongly, that since they are both unseasoned, as it were, that he is a good choice for exploration.” He stared at Cullen meaningfully.

Cullen’s mind was definitely reeling now. “Are you saying what I think you are saying? She has not –” Dorian shook his head. Cullen buried his face in his hands and tried to keep down his lunch that was threatening to make a reappearance. “She would give herself to _Cole_? Oh, Maker, I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Just breathe, Cullen. Slow, steady breaths.” Cullen inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly multiple times to soothe his growing horror. “That’s it. Calm yourself. Nothing has happened yet that cannot be rectified.”

“Blessed Andraste, you say that as though something has already happened between them.” Cullen looked up to see Dorian trying very hard not to make eye contact. “Oh, Maker!” He repeated the breathing exercise for a minute before he was able to speak again. “Just tell me Dorian – how far has Nymeria gone with this abomination?”

Dorian waved his hand airily. “Some kissing and possibly some petting, but I cannot be sure.”

Cullen sat back in shock. Petting? As in, that spirit masquerading as a human _touching_ Nymeria? How – how could she think this was healthy? He could only assume that somehow this was Solas’s fault. Surely the Inquisitor was too smart to have thought Cole a good choice of partner before her traumatic experience. He couldn’t stop thinking of all the information that Dorian had given him. The full story of the night that Solas broke her heart was gut wrenching on its own, but then to see how months later his betrayal had led her down this path, of all things, only amplified his complete loathing of the apostate.

“So, what am I do to? You said that she is afraid to trust feelings and I understand that, which is why I am anxious about the next steps.” He rubbed his hand along his neck in his usual display of awkwardness. “I am sure you know that I have feelings for her.”

Dorian snorted. “Cullen, _everyone_ knows you have feelings for her. Well, except for Nymeria, of course. She’s a little oblivious, actually,” he muttered. Cullen blushed furiously and grimaced. Dorian snickered. “You may have to stamp down your feelings that go beyond desire, at least until she becomes comfortable enough that you could be honest about how you care. But if you don’t make a move of some sort upon her return, then she is likely to end up in bed with an abomination. You spent time in Kirkwall – pray tell me, Cullen, how did a relationship with an abomination fare for Hawke?” He stared pointedly at the former templar and saw resolve steel in the man’s eyes.

With renewed strength Cullen stood up and nodded affirmatively. “You’re right, of course. We must protect her at all costs.”

Dorian breathed a sigh of relief. He knew that Nymeria would kill him when she found out that he had spilled all her secrets to Cullen, but he hoped that one day she would be able to understand why he did it and forgive him. But even if she didn’t, he was too much of a friend to watch her ruin her life. She was the only friend he had and he would do anything to protect her.

A messenger ran breathlessly up the stairs and paused before Cullen. Taking a ragged gasp of air, the man spoke. “Commander, the storm has finally ended. Our forward scouts have returned from their initial journey of the mountain paths and have seen no sign of the Inquisitor’s hunting party. We don’t know where she is. She is missing.”

Cullen looked at Dorian and the mage fluidly grabbed his staff and his heavy coat. “Lead on, Commander.” Cullen nodded and began issuing orders for an immediate search and rescue party as he hid his anxiety. He would not let her slip through his hands when he was so close to finally telling her how much he cared for her. He would prove that not all men were like Solas and they could swear their love and not desert her.

_Andraste, guide me. Help me find her before it’s too late._


	7. Chapter 7

Nymeria shivered under her blankets. They ran out of wood to keep the fire alive sometime overnight; at least, she assumed it was night. With the deep snow acting as a wall, sealing them in the shallow cave, they could only guess what time of day it was or if the storm had even ended. The snow bank was dense and even with Iron Bull’s giant hands acting as shovels, they managed to make very little headway in digging themselves out. She could only assume that meant the blizzard still raged outside and was only adding more layers of packed snow as they feebly attempted to climb out the opposite direction.

She had feared this would happen, but she also knew that without the shelter of the small cave they would already be dead and long buried under feet of snow. The Inquisition would surely send out a search party, but she realized that they would not be able to do so until the blizzard stopped.

They had maybe a day’s worth of jerky left and then they would be out of food, too. Iron Bull had already stopped eating to make sure the others had food and Nymeria felt guilty that he was willfully foregoing sustenance, for their sakes. They had been melting snow over the fire to stay hydrated, but without the flames to melt the snow they resorted to eating it. Their situation was desperate.

Iron Bull was furiously digging away at the snow again, but she could see how quickly he was tiring without food to sustain his energy. “Bull, please take a break. You can’t keep that up when you aren’t eating.” Bull only roared in anger and dug more ferociously. Nymeria sighed and ran her hand wearily across her forehead.

Scout Harding was using a small hand trowel she kept in her pack for digging up herbs as a shovel along the edge of the wall. Her strategy was more about digging a tunnel for them to crawl out of and then up out of the ground layer of snow. It was a good plan, but it was also time consuming and they didn’t have the luxury of time.

She glanced over at Blackwall, who was supposed to be resting, but she could see he was staring blankly at the cave ceiling. Surrounded by rock on all sides, sealed in like a tomb – this must be what it felt like in the Deep Roads for the Wardens when they went for their Calling. She shivered again, but not from cold.

It seemed as though Fate had decided the course of her life, again. First, in touching that damnable orb and being elevated to Inquisitor to fight an ancient darkspawn magister. Falling in love with a man who abandoned her without explanation or even goodbye and then, when she was ready to move on, sealing her away in a makeshift tomb in the gods-forsaken mountains.

She had time to mull over the ramifications of a relationship with Cole and she had to admit that Dorian was definitely right. It was all kinds of wrong – it only felt so good because it was forbidden. Didn’t Leliana once say that forbidden fruit was the sweetest? Still, be that as it may, the last thing Nymeria wanted out of another relationship was more heartache and that was ultimately what she would end up with, if she pursued Cole. Not to mention, she simply couldn’t take advantage of him when he was so new to being human. It wouldn’t be right and she couldn’t cross such a morally gray area.

Considering her other options, she didn’t think that Cullen would be interested in her, even though the thought of him sent her heart racing. She’d been lucky that Solas ever showed any interest in her and he was an elf – even though he scorned her Dalish heritage. What could a handsome human see in her? She saw the way he’d been swarmed by men and women alike at the Winter Palace. He could have his pick of women and he would surely want a woman with…experience. Definitely one that was human and believed in Andraste. She knew how strong his faith was and he would expect his partner to be similarly minded.

Varric was out of the running now that he was leaving and because no matter how screwed up their relationship was the dwarf’s heart would always belong to Bianca. The other one – not the crossbow. Besides, he’d given off more of a fatherly vibe that morning at breakfast; not really what she was going for.

Of course, all of this was moot now. Nymeria sighed heavily. With her death seemingly imminent, she had no choice but to be honest with herself. She’d be lying to say that feelings were not a factor for her in wanting to pursue a relationship with either of them. She wanted to be loved again. Someone she could open up to and not fear their reaction. Someone to hold her when the weight of her duty wore her down. Someone to kiss away the fear that crept over her at night. Someone – anyone – who would still be there when she needed him.

A strangled sob escaped her throat before she could stop it. Blackwall heard it and looked at her with immediate concern. “My lady, are you alright?”

He noticed the tears that threatened to spill over her cheeks and how she quickly brushed them aside. “Yes, yes, I’m fine. Just being stupid. Don’t mind me.” She laid down on her bedroll and pulled the blankets she was wrapped in over her head to bury her shame.

Damn him! May the Dread Wolf take him! Her tears fell traitorously down her face. She would never know true love, now. He had taken it all away from her and now Fate was going to steal her life after Corypheus failed to do so at the final battle. She closed her eyes and two faces swirled in her mind as sleep fell; one tan and brown, the other white and gray, swirling and twirling, never stopping. The last image that danced through her subconscious as she slipped into dreams was washed in burnished gold and brown.

*~*

The search party left the castle in the dark. Dorian magically lit their torches so they would shine brighter and wouldn’t burn down their only source of light. It made everyone a little nervous to be searching in darkness, but they also knew that time was of the essence. If the Inquisitor’s hunting party managed to find shelter to weather the storm, they would be dangerously low on provisions by this point. There was also the unspoken possibility that they would find them dead – or worse, not find them at all until the spring thaw.

The snow had fallen so heavily during the storm that it was densely packed on the ground and in many places, it had drifted into high peaks, burying most of their usual landmarks. Much of it was crusted over with a layer of ice, adding further stability when walking on it, but making the snow dangerously hard and slippery. What if the Inquisitor or one of her companions had slipped and been injured?

Cullen ran a hand shakily through his hair and shared a worried glance with Dorian who was working his jaw back and forth in silent anxiety. He indicated a halt to the rescue team. “We must split up if we are to have any hope of picking up the party’s trail,” his voice echoed through the silence. “Dorian, take a team and head east. I shall lead a team west. If either of us locates one of their trail markers we shall the signal the other group with a fire arrow.”

“What color marker did they use,” asked one of the scouts.

Dorian replied, “Yellow. It is what the Inquisitor’s clan used when they went hunting so it is her traditional hunting color.”

Cullen nodded and breathed happily. An easily identifiable trail then, as long as the markers weren’t buried under mounds of snow. Cullen clapped arms with Dorian and then turned west, leading his rescue party in the direction that would hopefully lead to Nymeria.

They trekked across the snowy wasteland digging out trees and praying that one of them would be dressed in yellow. One hour passed, then two, then three which was signaled by the coming of the dawn, but there was still no sign of her trail or a signal from Dorian’s party that they’d found one, either. Soon, they would have to give up, if only for a change of personnel as his men were weary and freezing. He was too, but he would be back with the next group no matter how numb his fingers were.

He sighed. “Come, we must go back – “

“Commander! Commander! I think I found a marker!”

Cullen sprinted towards the voice farther ahead of his position and found the scout brushing off the last remnants of snow from a bright yellow bolt of fabric. “Thank the Maker,” he cried. “Send up a signal,” he ordered the nearest person with a bow. He yanked off his cloak and tore his red tunic before anyone could stop him. “I need a pole. Quickly!” One of the scouts jumped to cut down a low hanging branch and bring it to him. He then secured the piece of cloth to the pole like a flag and shoved it forcefully through the crusted snow to anchor it.

The scouts nodded at the ingenuity as Cullen reaffixed his fur cloak to cover up his exposed skin. “Come, we must head back and meet the others halfway. Now that we know where to look, we need more people and all of you deserve a break in front of a fireplace.” There were murmurs of agreement as they headed back towards the castle. Every so often, one of the scouts would mark the trees they had exposed with the letter “C” to lead the way back to the flag for the new search party.

When they met up with Dorian’s group, Cullen explained the plan to return with a fresh team and Dorian agreed. They were closer to Skyhold then they initially realized as it only took them a little over an hour to reach the castle gates. Most of their time during the night had been spent digging and blundering around in the dark.

Cullen quickly explained the situation to his forces upon his return and asked only for volunteers who would be willing to dig day and night to find their Inquisitor. His heart was buoyed to see every one of his army raise their arm to volunteer. He ordered his lieutenants to choose five of their best from each squadron to go into the mountains, while the remainder would stay behind and guard the castle during his absence. That would give him a team of fifty men and women that he would rotate out on digging duty to keep them from all being exhausted at the same time.

He quickly rushed to his quarters and changed into dry clothing. He opted against wearing heavy armor for this mission and instead chose a medium weight set of leathers that he kept on hand for missions that required more mobility. The cotton lining in the leathers would help keep in heat, but prevent him from overheating during physical exertion. He traded his longsword for a slightly shorter broad sword that would be lighter and create less drag and he checked the dagger sheathe at the back of his leathers to make sure there was a blade in it. Cullen unsnapped the sheathe to check the quality of the blade and seeing no nicks or rust present he nodded in approval and re-sheathed it. Buckling his fur mantle over his armor and grabbing his fur lined gloves, he rushed out into the courtyard to gather his team and head out. Enough time had been wasted already.

Cullen was surprised to find Dorian was waiting with soldiers. He was also wearing heavier clothes more suited to the cold with a pack slung over his back. The mage squared his shoulders defiantly. “She is my best friend. Do not think to tell me to stay behind, Commander. Besides, my magic will be useful, I’m sure.”

The commander nodded. “Then let’s head out. We’re losing daylight.”

Dorian walked alongside the former Templar, unable to keep from smirking at the irony of a templar and a mage working together to find their Dalish leader. The mage was the first to spot the “C” carved into the trees that directed the unit to the red flag. Upon reaching the spot, Dorian noticed the rich embroidery along the hem of the fabric and his eyebrows skyrocketed into his hair as he realized the flag was Cullen’s own shirt.

“Spread out men! Search the trees about fifty paces ahead and see if any of those trees are marked.” Cullen turned to Dorian for confirmation. “Does Nymeria use fifty-pace markings?”

Dorian shrugged. “I am not sure if she’s ever judged the distance between them, but Blackwall is with her and he is usually the one who marks the trail. I’m sure that he uses conventional distances.” Cullen ran a hand through his hair to hide his nervousness, but Dorian noticed the tremble he tried to disguise in the movement.

Cullen joined in digging out the tree trunks in order to work out his nervous energy. Just standing around and delegating would not be an option for this mission. This one was too personal.

“Oh Maker, hear my cry: Guide me through the blackest nights. Steel my heart against the temptations of the wicked. Make me to rest in the warmest places.” He continued the prayer while he dug furiously against one tree and then a second. “My Creator, judge me whole: Find me well within your grace. Touch me with fire that –” He trailed off as he knocked off a chunk of ice laden snow and caught a flash of color. He continued to scrape at the snow until the yellow cloth he was praying to find materialized under his hands. “Oh, Blessed Andraste, thank you! I found one!” There were shouts of triumph all around. They quickly located him and then moved another fifty paces out from that tree and kept it up.

For most of the day the unit worked in this fashion, following the hunter’s original trail when they were hunting for game. They could only hope that wherever the hunting party ended up, it was not far from one of their trail markers. After taking a quick break for a supper of jerky and bread, the search party continued their work with enchanted torches to ward off the dusky gloom. By the time the sun had dipped over the horizon, they realized they’d reached a slightly higher elevation where the trees disappeared and were replaced with scrub bushes that were now buried under Maker knows how many feet of snow.

Cullen squashed his rising panic and kept his mask of calm collectiveness in place for his men. Dorian stepped beside him as the men stopped for a quick break. “So, what now?”

The Commander huffed. “I can only assume this is where their hunt ended. Probably due to the blizzard, but we have no way of knowing which direction they went from here. Their foot trail is buried and there aren’t any trees for marking.” Cullen rubbed his face gravely. This could be the end of their search. Maker, please let there be another way. “Wait, Dorian! Do you know any locator spells?”

Dorian stared at the man agog. That was truly inspired. He was a little miffed that he hadn’t thought of it, actually. “I might have something that would work, but I will need an item of hers and it’s rather short range. I’ll have to keep casting it every while or so as we travel until it looks like we’re getting close.” He dropped his pack and began to rifle through it, muttering to himself as he did. “Aha! As luck would have it, Commander, Nymeria left this behind to be washed before she left and forgot to pack it. I rescued it from the laundry basket the serving girl dropped when she saw me earlier today.” Dorian presented him with a slightly faded piece of blue flannel.

“What is it, exactly?”

“She uses it to freshen up her face after a fight. It’s a little quirk of hers – Nymeria hates to look unkempt. She says it ruins ‘the ideal’ people have of their Inquisitor and she tries extra hard to keep up appearances since she is elven.”

The very idea behind the statement brought Cullen shame. It was probably true that some expected their Inquisitor to look or act a certain way, but never anyone in the Inquisition who knew her and worked with her on a daily basis. Surely, she did not think that her friends and advisors believed that – did she? He would definitely have to work to show her how appreciated her efforts on their behalf were and how much he personally appreciated her – just as she was.

“Why does the pattern look so familiar,” Cullen mused aloud, indicating the flannel.

Dorian chuckled. “It was once one of Varric’s tunics. He retired it because it had been damaged in a fight and he didn’t see the point in salvaging it, so he had it cut for mending squares. When he noticed her fastidiousness, he gave her one to replace the scratchy cloth she was using. I still don’t think she has any idea it was ever his own shirt.” He snorted at the look on Cullen’s face. “Oh, stop it. Varric thinks of her like a daughter; he’s old enough to be her father, after all.” Cullen blushed and cleared his throat in embarrassment.

“Right, so…how does this spell work?” Dorian smirked and muttered some words in Tevene while letting the cloth rest in his palm. There was a pregnant pause, but nothing happened.

“Damn. They must be out of range.” The mage sighed and looked up at the mountain peaks that were barely discernable in the dark. His brow furrowed in concentration and he looked both east and then west. “Commander, do you happen to know which direction the storm blew in from?”

“Ummm, no, I don’t. Why is that relevant?”

Dorian rolled his eyes dramatically. “Let me ask you this Commander – if a storm is brewing, which way do you go for shelter? Into the storm or away from it?”

Cullen’s face lit up with understanding. “Men!” His voice boomed through the quiet, effectively silencing all conversation amongst the soldiers. “Does anyone know which direction the blizzard blew in from?”

Multiple voices rang out. “East, Ser!”

Cullen smiled triumphantly in the torchlight. “Then we are moving west. Move out!” As the soldiers quickly packed up, Cullen clapped Dorian on the shoulder. “Thank you, my friend. Let’s go find them.”

Dorian smiled and led the party west, whispering to himself, “We’re coming, Nymeria. Hang on just a little longer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cullen's prayer is from Transfigurations 12 and is split between verses because it took longer to dig the trees out than it took me to write the sentence describing it. 
> 
> -Reference Dragon Age Wiki


	8. Chapter 8

Bull had finally given up. Exhaustion won out and forced the Qunari to stop his mad clawing at the packed snow that blocked their escape. It was the only thing that saved him from potentially losing his fingers to frostbite; however, they were chapped and cracked from the biting cold, leaving smears of blood on the white backdrop. It was a morbid reminder of their plight.

Nymeria glanced over at the Qunari sitting like a statue against the back wall of the cave. If it were not for the large, white bandages on his hands, he would have been nearly invisible against the gray stone. Blackwall was humming a sea shanty while mindlessly sharpening his sword, even though the edge was already keen enough to split a single hair.

She looked at Harding and sighed regretfully. This was not deserving of any of them and Lace Harding was no exception. That woman was tough as nails, yet she still managed to retain her sense of humor. Without question, she had always gone throughout the world and scouted new regions; risking her neck so the Inquisitor wouldn’t walk blindly into any situation. The elven woman sidled over to the dwarf.

“Harding…can I call you, Lace?” The dwarven woman looked surprised for a second, but then shrugged.

“Might as well, Inquisitor. It might be the last time I ever hear my first name, anyway.”

Nymeria swallowed hard. “I’m so sorry, Lace. I wish you had not asked to join me. I was sure it would be fun to get away from your usual scouting and we could spend some non-life-threatening time together and hang out.” She laughed mirthlessly. “Things rarely go as planned when I am involved,” she swung her hand around to indicate their surroundings.

Harding snorted. “It’s not like you could control the weather. I don’t blame you. This is just bad luck, which come to think of it, you _do_ seem to be drawn to like a moth to a flame.” The shorter woman tossed her a teasing smile.

Nymeria hung her head. Maybe it wasn’t simply bad luck – maybe she was cursed. Harding took the elven woman’s hand and squeezed it. “This is not your fault, Inquisitor,” she stated firmly as though reading her mind. “Besides, I doubt the rest of the Inquisition is just going to let the Inquisitor stay MIA. They will send out a search party.”

Nymeria nodded vigorously in spite of the guilt she felt. Harding was right about them sending out a party; the question was whether they would be found in time to be rescued or if it would be a retrieval mission for their bodies in the spring. They didn’t even know if the storm still raged outside. The snow acted as complete insulation from sound inside the cave due to its density.

They sat in companionable silence for a while. “I don’t think I’ve ever properly thanked you, Lace, for all that you do for the Inquisition. For me. If we do get out, I promise I will guarantee you a raise and a nice long vacation on a beach in Antiva.”

Scout Harding brightened. “I’ll hold you to that, Inquisitor.”

Blackwall piped up from across the cave. “What about me? No vacation time for your sword arm?” He winked teasingly and Nymeria laughed.

“And where would you want to go, my loyal Shield-Bearer?”

The warrior smiled. “Antiva does sound nice. It’s definitely warmer than here. Maybe I could convince our ambassador to come along and show me the real Antiva?” The women giggled as he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Iron Bull’s voice boomed from the back. “I’ve always wanted to see Nevarra. NOT the cities with their weird, death magic shit, but the countryside. That’s where the dragons live! Home to the greatest dragon slayers! I’d love to see that.”

Nymeria clapped her hands and laughed again. The sound of her laughter rang around the cave and broke some of the tension. “Very well! Harding and Blackwall – vacation in Antiva. Iron Bull – Nevarran countryside for dragon hunting.”

Harding poked her with her elbow. “What about you? Where will you go for your vacation?” Nymeria blinked. Could the leader of the Inquisition even _have_ a vacation? She glanced again at the blood-stained snow blocking their exit and decided that yes – Inquisitors were allowed to go on holiday.

“I don’t know. Maybe to that spa in Val Royeaux Leliana is always talking to Josephine about. I’ve never been to a spa before and it sounds decadent.”

Harding oohed in agreement. “Soaking baths with bubbles!” The dwarf jumped up suddenly, full of excitement. “Full body massages! Spindleweed wraps and warm, fluffy towels! Oh, and chocolate,” she paused to take a breath and saw everyone staring at her. She scuffed her foot against the stone floor in embarrassment. “Sorry, I just really love going to the spa.”

Iron Bull was the first one to laugh. Then Nymeria and Blackwall joined in, until all of them were laughing at the absurdity of their situation. Harding sat back down beside the elf to continue her giggling. Once the fit had passed, they sat in comfortable silence awaiting either rescue or death. At some point, it seemed the foursome had crossed an invisible barrier to acceptance. They had each worked through their fear, and now – now they could only wait and see what would happen.

*~*

The cloth in Dorian’s hand emitted a vibrant orange aura, which meant Nymeria was close, but there was no sign of any of the hunting party. It was just white; blank, colorless, lifeless white everywhere the eye could see. The enchanted torchlight cast an eerie glow on the snow that reminded the mage of veilfire or the Anchor on Nymeria’s hand.

Damnit! He blew out a frustrated breath. Where was she? She should be right here! Unless, she was buried under the snow… He closed his eyes and begged his stomach to stop rolling before he did something embarrassing, like vomit all over the Commander’s boots. _Andraste, forgive me. I know I do not pray enough, but please hear my plea. Help me find my friend._

“Anything?”

“She should be here. The spell says this is where she is, but I see no sign of a shelter where they could have sought refuge.” Dorian’s shoulders sank in defeat. They stood in silence together. Each unable to say the words that would make this nightmare a brutal reality and call off the search until spring.

Dorian blinked back the tears that were quickly obscuring his vision. He would keep it together until he got to Skyhold, at which point he planned to drink himself into a stupor and use his bad taste in alcohol as the excuse for his tears.

Cullen worked his jaw back and forth in silent grief. No, he was not best friends with the Inquisitor, but he had harbored secret feelings for her for almost two years and now he would never be able to tell her how much she meant to him – to Cullen, the man – not the commander of the army. A tight knot was forming in his throat and he swallowed hard to maintain his composure.

“Ser!” Cullen startled at the sound of the voice in the darkness. “I think I found something!” Dorian’s sharp gasp echoed the flutter of hope that welled in his chest as both men ran across the hard-packed snow to the soldier who called them. He was waving his torch as a beacon to draw the men to his discovery. “Look at this,” he said when they reached him. He waved his torch slowly in front of a wall of snow. Dorian shook his head in confusion and Cullen scowled.

“I don’t see anything, soldier. What am I looking for?”

“Watch closely. When I pass the torch across the snow it should be level and create a perpendicular shadow, but this shadow bends in the middle – “

“Like it’s concave!” Dorian slapped the man on the back. He turned to Cullen for an explanation. “There is a cave here, Commander! It’s been buried under a massive snow drift. She _is_ here – right behind this wall of snow!”

Cullen paled. “Maker’s breath! Men, we need shovels and strong backs – double time! The Inquisitor is buried behind this snowbank!” Cullen yanked a shovel from one of his own soldiers and was about to plow it into the snow when Dorian stopped him.

“Stop! It’s been packed over with ice. You’ll break an arm doing that. Let me melt through what I can and when I run out of mana it should be easier to dig out the rest of the cave mouth.” Cullen nodded tersely and quivered with pent up anxiety as Dorian used his magic to melt the hardened layer of ice and the next couple feet of snow, before the mage stepped back in fatigue. He smiled wanly and inclined his head to Cullen indicating he could finally unleash his silent fears onto something tangible.

Dorian leaned on his staff and watched the army dig like the well-oiled machine it had proven itself to be. There were six soldiers abreast, one of which was Cullen, and they were almost synchronized in their digging and scraping at the center of the wall. When one of them tired, there was a second standing right behind them to step up and pick up where the other left off. Cullen made it through three such rotations before he finally stepped back and relinquished the tool to one of his men. For all of the energy he had just expended, Cullen was barely breathing hard, but Dorian could see his arms were shaking from the force of his blows.

Cullen had just enough strength in them to wave the soldier who discovered the anomaly to them. “What is your name, soldier?”

“Matthias Flint, ser!” He continued at Cullen’s nod. “Originally from Starkhaven and former professor at the University of Markham.”

“And what is your rank in the army,” inquired the Commander.

“Corporal, ser!”

Cullen glanced at Dorian and gave his signature smirk. “You’ve just been promoted. Sergeant, dismissed!” The Commander saluted Flint and the gobsmacked field-promoted Sergeant saluted in return and took up a position to wait his turn to dig through the snow bank.

Dorian chuckled. “That was well-done, Commander. I can see why you have the loyalty of your men.”

Cullen tilted his head thoughtfully. “I don’t normally do spur-of-the-moment field promotions, but that one was warranted.” He smiled warmly. “I’ll see to it that he gets a proper promotion with honors when we get back.”

“Good. I think everyone would like a chance to be merry when we return. But first, let me help your men before they keel over.” Waving the next line of soldiers away from the snow, Dorian tapped into his renewed mana pool and blasted it with a stream of concentrated fire. He could see the dent the soldiers made and he hoped that soon they would be able to break through. There was no telling how thick it was, but so help him, he was going to tear it down.

*~*

Nymeria’s foggy brain was struggling to make connections, but there was one persistent thought racing around her mind. She kissed Solas, she kissed Cole, even given Varric chaste kisses, but the one man she fantasized about since meeting him was the only one she never had the nerve to pursue. In her half-frozen state, a tiny voice reasoned that she chased Solas because she did not think that a human would be interested in a proud Dalish elf. Turned out even her elven lover was a hard sell on the Dalish elf bit.

Something caught her attention, but she could barely focus on it. Shaking her head, Nymeria willed her ears to work at full capacity again. Closing her eyes, she blocked out the sound of Iron Bull snoring and ignored the rush of blood traveling through her body. Silence. There was nothing there. How foolish of her to think differently. Keeping her eyes closed, she leaned her head against the stone wall and decided to give into the sleep that threatened to overtake her.

It was back. The dull roar that Nymeria heard when they entered Skyhold after the battle with Corypheus. Only…that couldn’t be right. No one was here to cheer her on for stupidly dying in a snowed-in cave. She shook off the bone-weary exhaustion that hovered nearby, waiting for her to succumb and concentrated on the sound.

Whooooooosh! A pause. Whooooooosh! Methodical, precise – the sound was vaguely familiar, but for the life of her she could not place it. And…was that heat coming from nearby? Now she knew she was dying. Only the promise of death could bring heat to those slowly dying of hypothermia and oxygen deprivation.

“Blackwall,” she whispered. Her voice was hoarse with disuse. The warrior did not stir. “Black –“ She coughed roughly against the dryness in her throat. “BLACKWALL!” Finally, her ability to project her voice returned to her.

The man startled and opened his eyes slowly to stare at her with glazed eyes. “Do you feel that?” He shook his head. “It’s warm. Where is it coming from?”

“Death, my lady. It’s come to claim us.”

Nymeria shook her head in frustration and tried to stand up, but found that her legs were too weak to hold her weight. Instead she crawled closer to him and used the last of her strength to grab him by the shirt and shake him. That seemed to revive him slightly – at least, he seemed more lucid now.

“No, Blackwall, I mean it. Heat is coming in from somewhere. Don’t you feel it?”

He opened his mouth to argue, but then he stopped when a sudden rush of heat hit him. “Andraste’s tits, I think you’re right,” he sputtered in awe. Blackwall listened carefully to the sound that accompanied the sudden warmth and then his cold-addled brain made a connection. “I’ll be damned, it’s magic! Someone is using fire to melt the snow!”

Nymeria’s heart nearly exploded out of her chest. She smiled brilliantly and took a deep breath before facing the snow and yelling as loud as she could.

“DORIAN! DORIAN, IS THAT YOU?”

The mage stopped for a minute and the soldiers grabbed their shovels in readiness, but he held them back with his hand raised. Cullen was beside him in an instant.

“What is it,” the blond asked. Dorian shushed him and closed his eyes to concentrate.

“ – orian! – an you – ear – ee?”

Cullen gasped and ran with the mage to wall. “NYMERIA, IT’S DORIAN! STEP BACK, I AM GOING TO MELT THE WALL!” They could hear the muffled sounds of exclamation on the other side.

“GO AHEAD,” Blackwall’s authoritative voice carried better than the Inquisitor’s. Dorian shooed the elated soldiers aside and grinned.

“Move far behind me. I’m going to work some impressive magic on this damnable barrier.” The air began to hum – softly and then building to a crescendo, bringing with it the sound of fire crackling and popping in a hearth. Flames danced around Dorian, but never actually touched him or his clothes, he had complete mastery of the element the whole time and then with a wild grin Dorian released all the pent up magic in a barrage of powerful fireballs that slammed one after the other, melting and weakening the integrity of the barrier.

With a sudden explosion of snow and water the wall was gone – obliterated by the Tevinter’s incredible display of power. Cullen grabbed a torch and held it aloft to illuminate the exposed cave and the occupants covered their eyes at the intensity of the light after days in near darkness. He found her standing in the middle of the cave and before he even knew what he was doing, he’d dropped the torch and dashed inside to hug her to him and kiss her soundly on the lips.

It wasn’t how he thought their first kiss would be. He’d always dreamed of something romantic, definitely not after she’d been missing for four days and was probably dehydrated as her dried out lips attested. But it was just what he needed to soothe his jangled nerves. He did not kiss her long – just long enough and with enough obvious relief at finding her alive that he was sure his message got across.

Cullen released her sheepishly and stepped back. “I-I’m sorry, forgive me. I could not seem to stop myself. I am very relieved to find you unharmed.” Cullen ran his hand through his hair and avoided eye contact with all four of them.

Nymeria lightly touched his arm and smiled. “I am very glad you found us.” He could not be sure, but it looked like her face was flushed.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “We, uh, we have some provisions. You should all eat and drink something. I’m sure you want to leave this place, but it’s past midnight and my men are exhausted. We will have to wait until morning to head to Skyhold.” He bowed quickly to Nymeria and nodded to the others, before turning on his heel and ordering his men to set up a perimeter and a guard rotation for the night.

Dorian sailed in, glancing at Cullen with a bemused expression as they passed one another, hugging Nymeria and Harding before setting to work on healing the minor frostbite they all exhibited, and the wounds on Bull’s hands. A soldier came and set up a nice, roaring fire in the center of the cave and Dorian set a stasis spell on it. It would be worth the mana drain to make sure they were toasty before their sojourn home. Fresh water canteens were given to them, as well as bread and jerky that had been softened in water to make it less upsetting to their stomachs.

Once they were all cozy and beginning to thaw out, Dorian settled himself next to Nymeria on the floor and tossed an arm around her shoulder. “I was so worried about you. I would have felt absolutely horrible if you had died and thought I was mad at you.” He sniffed and Nymeria saw the tears gathering in his eyes.

“Oh, Dorian. I’m the one who should be apologizing to you.” She sighed heavily. “I have had plenty of time to think about what you said and to be honest with myself. You are right. Cole would be a mistake.”

“My dear, we don’t have to discuss this right now. It’s not as important as finding you alive.” He pulled her tight against him. “It’s been four days, Nymeria. We couldn’t do anything until yesterday because the blizzard camped over the mountains for three days, but we’ve all been absolutely sick with worry.” A couple of tears escaped their confines and he muttered, “For a moment there, I thought you were gone. Who would tell me when I am being a giant prat or scold me for cheating at chess? Who would go shopping with me and lie about that pair of breeches making my ass look good?”

She smacked his arm playfully. “They _do_ make your ass look good and you know it.”

Dorian smirked. “That’s true.” They sat for a moment and enjoyed their reunion. He could feel her leaning more heavily against him and glanced down to see her falling asleep. “I’ll let you rest. I’ll be nearby, if you need me.” She garbled unintelligibly as he settled her against her bedroll and covered her with a blanket.

As he watched her sleeping, Dorian thought back to the way Cullen had reacted when he saw Nymeria alive. He knew that those feelings he had tried so hard to bury were genuine and the relief at finding her alive and well caused him to react in a rather spectacular display of affection. Poor Cullen – Dorian felt a little sorry for him, as Nymeria’s reaction had been less than enthusiastic. However, he could chalk that up to hypothermia causing delayed motor response and shock at finding her commander’s lips locked on her own immediately after being rescued.

The mage smiled softly. They would deal with the rest when they returned to Skyhold. Right now, he planned to get some sleep and find ways to keep Nymeria locked at the castle for the remainder of the winter. His poor Tevinter nerves were not cut out for the excitement that Southerners seemed to find so irresistible.


	9. Chapter 9

They arrived at Skyhold at nearly six the next evening. The small squadron had not left camp at dawn to give the rescued time to get some extra sleep. However, they managed to make up the time during their return march as the four were determined to be home and sleep in their own beds. All of them were instantly swarmed by well-wishers; cheers echoing across the stone courtyard as the group made their way to the main hall.

Josephine met the foursome inside. “Oh, it is so good to see you all again!” The exuberant Antivan rushed to hug them each in turn, except for Bull since her arms would not reach a quarter of the way around him. “I have taken the liberty of setting up baths for all of you to help thaw you out. Blackwall, Iron Bull and Scout Harding – you have temporary quarters in our guest rooms so you can rest and fully relax. Inquisitor, I have everything set up for you in your suite. Is there anything else you require?”

Nymeria smiled at the woman’s thoughtfulness and squeezed her hand softly. “Would you mind sending us dinner when it’s ready? Unless you guys want to socialize tonight, of course.” The others shook their heads and Nymeria nodded.

“Of course, Inquisitor, and should any of require anything else, please do not hesitate to ask me or one of the servants.” Josephine covered her mouth as emotion threatened to overtake her and she blinked back tears. “It is _so_ good to see you unharmed.” Her eyes flicked to Blackwall and lingered for a brief moment before she bobbed her head and dashed away.

Nymeria turned to Blackwall, eyebrow cocked in question, and found the usually cool warrior’s face as red as a tomato and studiously avoiding eye contact. He cleared his throat and mumbled some excuse before disappearing towards the guest wing. Iron Bull laughed uproariously at his hasty departure. “Well, I’ll be damned. I’m guessing Blackwall might already know a little bit about Antiva’s warmer climate.” Scout Harding snorted in response and hid her wicked smirk behind her hand. “Come on, Harding, let’s find our rooms.” Harding waved and turned to follow the Qunari.

The hall was almost empty – only servants and a handful of guards stationed around. Josephine must have cleared the hall so she could make the trek to her room in peace. Tomorrow after she had a full night’s sleep in her own bed, she would be able to deal with the running of the Inquisition again. But tonight – tonight was for her to breathe and thank the Creators that somehow, they had survived.

She wasn’t sure how Josephine had managed it, but there was a giant soaking tub in front of her fireplace and a mound of fizzy bubbles crowning the water. Tears filled her eyes at her ambassador’s gesture. Nymeria removed her boots and left them on the stone to dry out and nimbly gathered her toiletries before removing the armor that had become a second skin over the last five days. She wrinkled her nose and frowned. Those would need to be disposed of and a new set commissioned to replace them. There was no way the smell could be removed, nor could she wear them without remembering their ordeal. Tossing them across the room in disguist, she gingerly sank into the blissful bubble bath.

The bubbles were so high they almost touched her nose and she giggled softly. She made a point of never asking for much because she did not want it whispered among court gossips that she was just another elf who had over-reached her station and made unreasonable demands of humans. The integrity of the Inquisition must be maintained, even at the cost of her pride. But as she soaked in the luxurious bath water, she thought maybe she had been mistaken.

It would not be wrong for her to ask for things as long as they were reasonable. And it wouldn’t be wrong for her to take a few days off and have a mini-vacation. No one expected her to work all the time; even her advisors delegated their duties to subordinates. She knew the Inquisition would be in capable hands with her advisors at the helm if she took a week off and went to Val Royeaux for a spa getaway. Of course, that didn’t mean she would actually go; she was merely entertaining the possibility.

Nymeria scrubbed the accumulation of grime off her skin until it was positively glowing and smelled like an orange grove. It took multiple washes and rinses of her hair before it felt completely clean and all the tangles were either worked out or loosened so that a good brushing would tame them. No sooner had she finished drying off and slipped on her linen night gown then a soft knock on her door announced the arrival of dinner. “Come in,” she called down the stairs and quickly tied her dressing gown over her night clothes.

A young woman entered bearing a tray of food and Nymeria cleared a space on her desk for her to set the tray down. She glanced at the elf’s damp hair and hesitantly spoke, “My lady, I could brush and braid your hair, if you like.” Nymeria smiled warmly and brought the girl her brush.

“What is your name?”

“Melissa, but everyone calls me Missy.”

“Nice to meet you, Missy.” The girl murmured demurely and as she worked on her hair Nymeria learned the girl was originally from Amaranthine, but after the area had been ravaged by darkspawn ten years ago and her family perished, she had entered service to an upper-middle class family in Denerim and had been in training to be a lady’s maid when the Conclave took place and her patrons died. They were there as pilgrims, like so many others, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Divine and the Urn of Sacred Ashes while they were there. Missy joined the Inquisition, since there was nowhere else to go, and she’d been working in the kitchens where she’d been needed the most.

Missy patted her shoulder lightly to indicate she was done and Nymeria ran her hand across her braid. Missy had towel dried and brushed her hair without pulling a single snarl and braided it so deftly that Nymeria didn’t even realize she was almost done. Inspiration struck the elf and she smiled.

“Thank you.” The woman curtsied quickly and made to leave, but Nymeria held up a hand. “I have a question to ask. How do you feel about Val Royeaux?” The maid blinked rapidly as she tried to ascertain where this conversation was going.

“I do not know, my lady. I have not had the opportunity to go, but I imagine it would be beautiful.”

Nodding thoughtfully, Nymeria continued, “I ask, you see, because I think I know of someone who will be needing the assistance of a lady’s maid. Can you be trusted to keep your lady’s confidence and swear complete loyalty to her? Even if you ever left her service, your silence would be expected, as she holds a very high position.”

Missy curtsied deeply. “I would never betray your confidence or anyone else I served, as long as I live.” She stood nervously at the Inquisitor’s signal to rise.

“Excellent! I shall write to her with your letter of recommendation and I’ll have Lady Josephine compile your reference from your former household.”

“Thank you, my lady, but I don’t have much to recommend myself –“

“You have my word recommending you. That will count a lot towards your employment, believe me. Listen, Missy – my friend, she needs allies and trustworthy people at her side. As a maid you can go where your lady cannot and you will hear gossip that you can report back to her so she can stay one step ahead of those who might seek to harm her. A lady’s maid is always a lifeline for a well-to-do lady and once you have earned this woman’s confidence – there will be no force on Earth that will be able to shake it.”

Missy nodded slowly. “Who shall I be a lady’s maid to, Your Worship?”

Nymeria smirked. “Why, to Divine Victoria, formerly known as Lady Seeker Cassandra, of course.” Missy looked as though she might faint, but quickly regained her composure, schooling her face into a mask of calm. Nymeria silently approved – there was steel in this girl, it just needed to be tempered a little. Cassandra could hone her into the spy she required in the Grand Cathedral and hopefully befriend her, as well.

“Now, please fetch Josephine for me so we can make arrangements for your departure to the capital. And Missy,” the woman paused, “thank you for doing my hair tonight. It was very thoughtful and I do hope that you are happy in Val Royeaux.” The woman beamed in reply as the magnitude of her good fortune began to sink in.

“Your Worship, I will forever be in your debt, and I will serve the Divine loyally, without reservation.” She curtsied deeply once more and then scampered down the stairs to find the ambassador.

By the time Josephine arrived, Nymeria had finished her dinner and was sipping her warm cider. The women discussed travel plans and worked out the proper phrasing in Nymeria’s letter to Cassandra, so that no one would realize it was in code, except for the Divine herself. They informed Cassandra that the girl could be trusted with complete confidence and she was young enough to be molded into the perfect spy. Quiet and unassuming, she could go places the Divine could not and hear things that might be useful, but above all she was indebted to the Inquisitor for her position and would never betray them. Her loyalty would be unquestioned and Cassandra desperately needed solid allies in the Cathedral.

Her dwarven water clock, a gift from King Bhelen, chimed ten times and Nymeria stifled a yawn. Josephine cleared off the papers from her desk, promising to seal the final draft and send it first thing tomorrow so Cassandra would be expecting Missy’s arrival within a fortnight. She slipped the documents in one of her voluminous pockets and snatched the food tray before exiting. Nymeria removed her dressing gown, draped it across her couch and crawled into bed. She smiled softly as sleep took hold.

Morning arrived and found the Inquisitor rested and ready to face the day. She’d been away from the usual day-to-day running of Skyhold and she needed to make sure there were not any pressing issues that needed to be addressed. She re-braided her hair and put on some clean clothes and headed to the hall for breakfast. Waving at Iron Bull and Harding who were regaling their table with an exaggerated version of events, she beelined towards the buffet table and began to fill a plate.

Varric sidled over to her and gave her a hug. “Blossom, how many times do I have to tell you – stop trying to get yourself killed.”

The elven woman shrugged. “Wasn’t it you who once told me you didn’t know if my luck was good or bad? I think we can safely assume the worst, at this point.”

Varric sighed dramatically. “Probably true. Still – no more trying to die.” He poked her gently with each word for emphasis. “I’m glad you’re safe, but you should know that Cole has been acting strange.”

Nymeria’s heart plummeted to her feet. “Strange how?”

He threw up his hands in frustration. “I don’t know how to explain it. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was mooning over a girl.”

“Uh huh, okay. What is mooning, exactly?”

Varric batted his eyelashes at her dramatically. “You know, pining after a girl. Usually after a girl you know you can’t have, but still want anyway. You don’t think he’s got a girlfriend, do you?” The dwarf dragged a hand across his face. “Maker’s breath, do I need to have a talk with him about the birds and the bees? Because I don’t think he know how any of that works –” He trailed off when he noticed her shell-shocked expression. “Blossom, you okay? I didn’t mean to drop all of this in your lap right after you got back. I was just wondering if you knew something I didn’t.”

Nymeria shook her head quickly to shake off the looming anxiety. “Nope, I don’t know of any girlfriend. I’m sorry, Varric. I, uh, would hold off the conversation about birds and bees for the time being though.”

Varric nodded. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He smiled warmly to her. “Sorry to interrupt. I’ll catch up with you later.” He went back to his usual place and Nymeria continued to fill her plate, with slightly less enthusiasm than before.

Damn, she would have to speak to Cole again. She closed her eyes for a second and the feel of Cullen’s arms wrapped around her, holding her against him like a drowning man clinging to a raft and the desperate press of his lips against hers in the cave, came unbidden to her mind. Her eyes snapped open, registering all the people milling around the hall and she dipped her head to hide her flushed cheeks.

She would have to speak to Cullen, too. Especially if she was ever going to be able to fully process what occurred between them. She’d been avoiding it, to be honest. Fear – she was afraid of being hurt again or worse still, hurting someone like she had been. Nymeria wanted to be loved and love someone in return, but she still did not know if that was possible and she did not want to unintentionally lead him on, if she wasn’t able to commit.

Breakfast passed quickly and then she held counsel with Josephine and Leliana to get up to date on the news of the last few days. Nothing pressing had transpired and no diplomatic matters needed attention. The blizzard had cut off couriers and delayed messages by raven, so if anything did need to be handled, they wouldn’t find out about for another couple of days. Nymeria was pleased with the respite from her duties and looked forward to being able to relax.

Well, after she spoke to Cullen, that is. She squared her shoulders and made her way to his tower, but found the door leading across the bridge to his tower was barred. One of Leliana’s scouts was passing through on his way to speak to the spymaster and informed her of Cullen’s temporary winter lodgings in the guest wing.

Thanking him, Nymeria backtracked through the fortress to the guest wing. It was easy to locate his room – there was a constant flurry of activity as couriers ran in and out with incoming and outgoing missives. She paused to absorb the sight. They were no longer at war, but Cullen’s job continued to be ceaselessly demanding, yet he never complained. He had always been helpful and informative regarding battle strategy and he supported her every decision as Inquisitor, even when he did not agree.

Continuing down the hall to his room, the scouts stilled and bowed as she walked by. Upon reaching the doorway she instructed the last man who was exiting with his updated orders to shut the door and then they were alone.

Cullen took note of the sudden quiet in his frantic morning and glanced up from the report he was reading to see Nymeria standing in his room, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. “Ah, good morning, Inquisitor. I trust you are well now that you are back. Ahem…how may I help you?” He cleared his throat and willed his hand to stay at his side instead of rubbing his neck.

“I am very happy to be home, yes. May I sit, Cullen?” She indicated the small chair in the corner and he waved his hand, since he could not trust himself to speak. Nymeria sat down and took a breath before she spoke again. “I need to know something; why did you kiss me? Tell me the truth, please.” Her voice quivered a bit, but the words were clear.

Cullen grimaced and rubbed his neck. He caught himself and scowled even more in frustration. “I, uh, I do not quite know how to say this…” He could see the woman was bracing herself against the chair, in case what he had to say was somehow negative. He plopped down on the trunk that stood at the foot of bed and hid his face in his hands. “I am sure this is the last thing you want to discuss right now after…well…” Clearing his throat he barreled on before his lost his nerve. “I have always cared for you, Nymeria. For a time, I thought you might have been interested in me, as well, but that did not happen and I-I knew when to step back and let you seek your happiness elsewhere. But that did not mean that I stopped caring for you.”

She studied him carefully in the semi-dark room. His head was bowed, hands were knotted together, posture stiff and radiating anxiety. Obviously, this was difficult for him to finally admit and she was struck by how he had suffered in silence for so long – for her sake. Not once during her relationship with Solas had he ever expressed his true feelings through word or deed.

She recalled the time when they had played chess and she had teasingly flirted with him, but he had gently shut her down, as it had been obvious that she and Solas had become something of an item by that point. Her face flamed in remembered shame at the flirtatious faux pas, which at the time she had blamed herself for, assuming that she had made a grave cultural error that must have offended him. Now, however, after hearing his confession Nymeria realized that Cullen had been protecting himself.

Nymeria whispered, “Why? Why did you not tell me how you felt? In the beginning?”

Cullen shrugged wearily. “I grew up very sheltered and I do not have much…experience with women. I can barely string together a sentence if it isn’t about military strategy. And I was…unsure of myself and my own feelings initially. I did not want to complicate matters and by the time I realized how deeply I cared; you had made your choice. So, I took my place as your Commander and buried it.”

“I-I see. That is understandable.” She laughed softly. “I always assumed that you could never find me, a Dalish elf with tattoos marking her as non-Andrastian, as a worthy partner.” A tear plopped into her lap.

“Nymeria, no!” Cullen rushed to her and fell on his knees at her feet. “I have always found you absolutely beautiful and honestly, I miss your vallaslin.” He reached out to brush his ungloved fingers across her forehead and this time, she did not shrink back. His breath hitched when he felt her soft skin under his rough palms. “But your physical beauty is not all I see. I see a woman who has never backed down from a fight, especially when it is to help those in need or to aid a friend. A woman who lost everything, including her autonomy and her clan, and has not once complained about the burden.”

Her tears were falling faster now, but she hadn’t made a sound. He wanted to pull her close and rock her until she had cried it all out, but she needed to believe him first. “Remember the avalanche after Haven? That blizzard was man-made – _you_ created it to save the pilgrims and our people, knowing it to be a suicide mission. You made the call to save others even at the cost of your own life without a second thought and yet, you did emerge from it…almost two days later.” Cullen paused to swallow hard and lick his lips. “I was only beginning to realize that there could be something between us, but those days spent waiting for word from the scouts that you had been seen were interminable. I felt like ice flowed in my veins.” He made sure she was looking directly at him. “And the other day, when we thought you were gone, it was the same feeling. Then I saw you standing in that cave, _alive_ , and I just...I just reacted because I was so relieved.”

His warm brown eyes suddenly looked sad and he stared at the floor. “I am sorry if I somehow made a mistake by not telling you sooner. Worse, I am sorry that the kiss was not from the person you wanted.”

“Oh, Cullen,” she whispered. “If I am being honest with myself and with you…I have feelings for you, as well. But you are correct – once I solidified my relationship to Solas, I had to bury mine, too. I would like…to pursue this with you, but please know that –“

Cullen held up his hand. “I will ask no more of you than you can give, Nymeria. I know that you have been deeply hurt and Maker knows, I do not want to hurt you further.”

Nymeria sighed shakily. “Thank you, Cullen.” She glanced at him, suddenly shy, to see those intense brown eyes studying her. “I-I should let you return to your work. Th-thank you for...allowing me to interrupt your morning.”

He chuckled softly. “It is never an interruption when you stop by.” There was some subtle context in those words that she was sure she was missing at the moment, but her brain was addled by his close proximity and their confessions. She could smell the pomade he used in his hair – warm and grounded like sandalwood; it suited him.

Cullen stood and reached out to gently ease her out of her chair, pulling her into an embrace. Nymeria allowed herself to relax in his arms and close her eyes for a moment. With Cullen there was none of the second-guessing that had overwhelmed her with Cole. Dorian was right – Cullen was a man and he may not always be good at verbalizing his feelings, but he was good at showering her with gentle affection. To prove her point, he placed a feather-light kiss on top of her head before he released her.

Nymeria smiled warmly at him. In a spontaneous act of boldness, she stood on tip-toe and pressed her lips to his stubbly cheek. His surprised gasp was worth it and with a quiet laugh in his ear, she turned and left his room. As she passed the line of scouts waiting to speak to the Commander, she did not hide her self-satisfied smirk and for once, was quite pleased to hear the sudden flurry of gossip left in her wake.


	10. Chapter 10

After having a new set of armor commissioned to replace her ruined leathers and following up with Josephine regarding travel plans for Missy to Val Royeaux, Nymeria was ready to set aside work for the day and take it easy. She knew just who to talk to about organizing some frivolity for the castle occupants.

She languidly draped herself in a chair beside her target and stared at him with her overlarge eyes, chin in hand, looking very much like a mischievous child trying to get her way. Varric gazed at her over his stein, eyebrow cocked in amusement at her antics, and finished his swig of ale. Placing his mug on the table he waved airily at her to proceed with whatever she was planning to ask him.

“We should play Wicked Grace again,” she rushed in breathless anticipation. Both of Varric’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. That was the last thing he had been expecting her to say. “Like last time! I’m sure you can convince everyone to join in. We’re snowed in and bored to tears. Please, Varric, please!” Her quick fingers snatched his coat sleeve and practically dragged him across the table in her excitement.

“Okay, Blossom, okay. I will ask and see who wants to meet up for a game. Same place as last time?” Nymeria nodded enthusiastically and he smirked to see her so boisterous. It had been some time since she had been this happy and lighthearted. He would be sure to use that knowledge to manipulate a few key players into joining their game tonight. Dorian had filled Varric in on the kiss between their illustrious leader and the taciturn commander, while Harding and Bull had further expounded (or embellished) the details to satisfy his curiosity. He crossed his fingers that this one worked out better than Chuckles, because the next man who hurt her was going to have a face-to-face conversation with Bianca.

He carefully pried her fingers from his coat and straightened out his tunic. “I’ll see who I can round up for tonight. Why don’t you invite Leliana this time? She had too much on her plate during the last game, but we’re not that busy now.”

Nymeria popped out of her chair and gave Varric a tight hug before dashing off towards the spymaster’s tower. Leliana was sitting at her desk analyzing a report, but nothing escaped her notice. “Inquisitor,” she indicated the chair across the table, “what a pleasure to see you again. How can I help you?”

“I wanted to invite you to play Wicked Grace with us in the tavern tonight. Varric is currently scrounging up other players and I wanted you to join us.”

Leliana’s lips quirked. “You are sure you want your spymaster to join in? You aren’t worried I won’t fleece you all?” The redhead broke into a full smirk. “Unless, of course, you want me to fleece our dear Commander Cullen again…”

Nymeria blushed scarlet at the memory of Cullen sitting across from her at their last game, with only his embarrassment as a covering. At the time, she had worked diligently to not ogle the man, but she would be lying if she said there was not part of her that wouldn’t mind the chance to openly stare now. But she would never suggest putting him in such a position on purpose – she had too much respect for him and would never want to see him humiliated. She hoped if she ever had to chance to see him in such a state of undress again, it would be a private moment between the two of them.

Leliana giggled and touched the elven rogue’s hand. “I am only teasing, Nymeria. I would never do that to our good Cullen. But that doesn’t mean you can’t fantasize about such an opportunity.” The elf buried her face in her hands and mumbled something unintelligible. “I’m sorry, I don’t speak – whatever that was,” Leliana teasingly replied.

“Creators,” she sighed as she resurfaced, “does everyone know?” Leliana’s quirked eyebrow was answer enough. “Fenedhis.” There was a brief pause as Nymeria chewed her bottom lip anxiously before leaning back in her chair and muttering, “Was I really the last person in the entire fortress to know that he has feelings for me?”

“If you need to ask…”

Nymeria groaned and rubbed her temples. “Mythal enaste, I’m such a fool.”

“Everyone is a fool in love, Inquisitor. Not one person has ever gotten it right, especially not the first time. Usually, not the second or third time either.” Leliana gazed at the elf thoughtfully. “Love is hard and people are even harder to read. Some have difficulty sharing their feelings, others do not show outward displays of emotion, and some people were shaped by difficult pasts and their love reflects that and sow’s destruction.” She sighed heavily. “As a bard, we sing the epic ballads of love conquering death and we tell stories of happily-ever-after to create the illusion that all lovers are faithful and will run the marathon of life with you to the finish line. But that is not real life. That is precisely why everyone loves the songs because it is an escape from the harsh reality of cheating spouses and broken dreams between people who believed they could defy the odds against them and stand the test of time.”

“There is nothing wrong in hoping and wishing for such a happy ending because there are people who have found their other half and managed to find fulfillment in their relationship. Do not be discouraged that you did not find it the first time. Maybe your previous relationships were only to lead you to your current path and show you what you do and do not want in order for a love to be successful for you. How can you figure out what you do want, if you never learn what you don’t? And how do you learn what you don’t want, except by being burned?”

Nymeria nodded at the wisdom in Leliana’s words. She could tell the woman was speaking from personal experience, but she did not want to pry into her past. Nymeria knew firsthand how even old memories could still bleed afresh if they were poked enough. His pale gray-blue eyes and permanently furrowed brow flashed in her mind and she rubbed her eyes vigorously in a subconscious attempt to erase the memory. She opened her eyes to see her sympathetic friend’s sad expression.

“How? How do I forget him?” Nymeria rubbed her temples angrily. “I want to move on, but his damn presence still lingers in my head and usually makes an appearance at the most inconvenient times.”

Leliana shook her head. “He will never truly leave you. You may go days, months, eventually even years without giving him a single thought and then one day – a word, a fragrance, or a dream – will bring him back to you with a vengeance. He is part of what has shaped you into who you are right now and you can never escape that. You can only move on with your life and hope that your new life is enough to drown out his memory and keep him from interfering in your current happiness. Only you can determine your happiness, Inquisitor. If you do not love yourself and give yourself permission to pursue your own pleasure, you will always be dissatisfied in any relationship you choose.”

“I-I am afraid and I do now know if I am more afraid of being hurt or of hurting someone the way he hurt me. My fear seems to be my biggest hurdle right now. I do want to pursue a relationship with Cullen, though. He is a good man and there is a gentleness in him that is so damn attractive.”

The spy laughed softly. “Nymeria, if you are worried about hurting someone else, then I can tell you that you are already on the path to moving on. If you were still mired in self-absorbed fear, you wouldn’t care about anyone else, because your own pain would still be too acute. Your next step on the path to complete healing is to try again. Only if you feel like you are ready and that you have found someone worthy, of course.”

Nymeria smiled brightly. “You’re right, of course, about everything. I know that any relationship has the potential to fail, but I will never know what could be if I do not try.” She stood up. “I refuse to continue to live my life wondering ‘what-if.’ I may regret that I have lost precious time with Cullen, that I wasted on someone unworthy, but I’ll be damned if I continue to regret not chasing him now.”

Leliana clapped happily. “Oh, I am so glad to hear you say that! Although, I doubt you really have to chase the poor man. He’s ready to fall at your feet already!”

The elf blushed slightly and then burst into a fit of nervous laughter when she imagined Cullen prostrated at her feet, kissing up her leg – nope, she needed to turn off that vein before she really embarrassed herself. Mentally shaking the image from her mind, Nymeria cleared her throat. “So, will you come play cards?”

The rogue rolled her eyes playfully. “Oh, alright, but only because I have to see who Josie can get naked this time.” Nymeria dashed around the table and gave the redhead a hug then with a rushed goodbye she disappeared down the stairs.

She made a beeline for her suite and deftly unplaited her hair, letting it cascade in soft waves to her shoulders and began to search in her dresser for a suitable outfit. She didn’t want it to be obvious that she was trying to get his attention, but she didn’t want to wear something she had worn a hundred times around the castle already.

A flash of red caught her eye and she pulled out a sweater of ram’s fleece dyed a rich claret and brushed to an exquisite softness. She combined the red with dark brown trousers and a simple pair of boots in a similar shade to keep her feet warm and dry.

Nymeria knew she would be early, but somehow waiting for the time to pass in the tavern seemed less pathetic than waiting alone in her room, so she grabbed her jacket and gloves and made her way to the tavern. She was grateful it was a quick jaunt down the courtyard stairs as the wind was biting and turned her breath into visible clouds with every exhalation. She pushed open the tavern door and quickly shut it behind her to keep any of the heat from escaping. Pushing her hair from her face, she saw Varric directing Krem and couple of other Chargers where to place the card table, while Maryden and Cole counted chairs to make sure there were enough for all the players.

“Blossom, you’re early,” chuckled Varric with a twinkle in his eyes. Nymeria smiled at the dwarf, but avoided the stare from Cole’s penetrating gray eyes. Varric went back to quickly determining chair placement and then with another count, he nodded in satisfaction. “Okay, so it’s the same group as last time, plus Leliana. She’ll be taking Cassandra’s place in our last game. Oh, and I even convinced Curly to join us again.” Varric said it with such infuriating innocence that Nymeria wanted to both smack him and hug him, but she did neither since Cole was still stealing furtive glances at her with those soul-searing eyes.

Varric and Iron Bull started doling out drinks for the players that were beginning to trickle in. Blackwall entered with Josephine close on his heels and he swapped out her ale for her favorite zinfandel almost imperceptibly, but Varric and Nymeria shared a secretive glance at the exchange. Cullen was next to arrive dusting snowflakes from his shoulders and stomping the remnants of snow from his boots. He unhooked his fur mantle and hung it up on the coat rack beside the door before acknowledging anyone.

Bull had a mug of stout ready for him and Cullen accepted it with a nod of gratitude. His brown eyes locked on hers as he took his first swig and he had to remind himself to swallow to keep from choking, but that did not stop the furious blush that crossed his face. Nymeria ducked her head slightly at the heat in his eyes that was not related to his embarrassment, flushing an attractive shade of pink up to the tips of her ears. Leliana snuck in and watched Cullen and Nymeria with no small sense of excitement for her two friends; pleased that they had finally cottoned on to what everyone else had seen for such a long time.

Cole receded further into the shadows of the tavern and watched the interaction with a growing sense of dread. He could see that she had made her choice and a strange pang of _loss_ settled in his chest. He sucked in a quick breath and closed his eyes tightly for a moment, unconsciously clenching his hands into fists, until the initial burst of pain faded. Cole watched in resignation as Nymeria drifted farther away from him with each heartbeat.

Josephine pointed out to the Inquisitor that she was still wearing her outerwear and Nymeria laughed at herself. With a slight shake of her head, the elven woman removed her gloves, shoving them in a pocket and slipped out of her coat. She moved to walk over and hang it up, but Cullen’s hand closed gingerly over hers. “Allow me,” he murmured.

Nymeria nodded as her mouth dried at the contact of his fingers against hers. Glancing around she could see that everyone was furtively watching them while attempting to appear disinterested. She blushed prettily at the attention they seemed to garner, but she wasn’t going to allow their nosiness to get in her way of enjoying herself tonight.

Cullen reappeared at her side. “You look…very lovely tonight,” he cleared his throat uncertainly and Nymeria smiled softly at his compliment.

“Thank you, Cullen. You look very handsome yourself,” she managed to respond. Without his fur cloak the rich green brocade tunic popped against his skin, drawing attention to his warm brown eyes. There was so much more she wanted to say, but she knew their audience was listening in and she would probably need more wine to loosen her tongue, anyway. Shyly, she tucked her hair behind her right ear. Instantly self-conscious and fearing she made a mistake, she quickly recovered her pointed tip.

“Don’t hide them.” His calloused fingers reached out to adjust her hair and lightly grazed her tip. “You should not be ashamed of being an elf, Nymeria – especially not with me. It’s my favorite thing about you.”

Nymeria’s entire body vibrated from his touch. Not being an elf, he could not know how sensitive an elf’s tips were or how touching them was a sensual act usually reserved for lovers in private because it was so intimate. More than that, however, his words lit a fire in the coals of her belly. Her eyes locked onto his lips with that infuriatingly sexy scar and she could not stop thinking about kissing them again.

“Are we playing cards or what,” boomed Iron Bull. His voice startled her out of her reverie and she thanked the Creators that her Qunari friend was not known for his patience.

“I suggest starting the pot at 2 silvers,” Josephine stated. She settled herself into a chair in the middle of the table and began to shuffle the cards. Leliana smiled and took a seat across from her.

“How about I deal this time, Josie? Everyone knows what happens when you deal.” Laughter erupted among the group as Leliana ribbed the Antivan for the infamous game from last year.

Josephine feigned insult. “And we should trust our spy leader to deal fairly? I think not, Leliana.”

“Which is exactly why _I_ will be dealing tonight, ladies,” interrupted Varric as he deftly scooped up the shuffled deck on the table and took a place at the end of the table. Both women rolled their eyes, but brooked no argument with the dwarf.

“I’m in, of course. I could never resist being beaten at my own game by intelligent women,” Dorian schmoozed as he took a seat. Blackwall also sat down and earned an approving nod from Josephine.

Nymeria peeked at Cullen and realized he was staring at her. She had no idea how long he’d been studying her and she ducked her head shyly, but with a quick breath she willed herself to speak. “Care for a game, Commander,” she asked teasingly.

He smiled as she repeated the same line he had used so long ago. “I do have to win back some of my dignity from our ambassador.”

Nymeria giggled and nodded. She inclined her head towards the table and took the seat next to Leliana. Cullen moved around the table and sat across from her. She pretended not to be phased by his choice of seat and absently tossed another silver to the growing pile without even looking at her cards.

Cole was the last one to join the game, taking the only open seat next to Varric and adding his own bet to the pot. A few seats down Cullen shared a sharp glance with Dorian whose lips were pursed tightly as if he’d just sucked on a lemon. Varric made a mental note of the exchange and decided that after tonight, he would have to have a long chat with Dorian to figure out what the hell was going on.

The first round was a warm up to loosen everyone up; by the third round, everyone was relaxed, borderline drunk, and laughing raucously as Iron Bull told the story of the Vinsomer dragon off the Storm Coast as one time he regretted egging the Inquisitor into a dragon hunt. “The whole time I was running around, trying to avoid the lightening breath, ducking behind every boulder I could and yelling ‘I’m sorry, Boss! This was a bad idea!’ And she’s tucked in some cleft in the rock and next thing I know her blonde head pokes around the rock face and very dryly says, ‘You don’t say!’” 

Nymeria pointed her finger at the Qunari. “You are a menace. Let’s not forget the breeding grounds in Emprise de Lion. After the first dragon was relatively easy to put down, Bull here decides that we should fight the next one, too. So, we restocked our potions and double checked our gear to make sure it would withstand another dragon. Wouldn’t you know _that_ dragon was not only bigger, stronger, and more aggressive, it had babies! I could barely raise my bow against the damn thing without being swarmed by dragonlings. Oh! Don’t forget that we were on top of a damn fighting ring…there was absolutely _no cover_. By the time we finally killed the it, poor Dorian had been knocked unconscious more times that I could count and Bull was using his greataxe as a cane and wheezing about broken ribs.” Bull raised his mug in acknowledgement of his bad decisions as their audience chortled.

Varric piped up from the end. “Question for you all: who or what is the hardest opponent to fight?”

“Dragon,” grunted Blackwall.

“Giant,” announced Cole. That earned quite a few nods of agreement around the table.

“Great bears,” Nymeria chimed in with a wink in Varric’s direction. The dwarf groaned at the memory.

Leliana smiled wickedly. “Oh, but that’s easy. Everyone knows the hardest opponent is –“ she paused for dramatic effect, “– an Archdemon.” With a flourish she laid out her hand of two angels and three knights and scooped the pot of winnings into her coin purse.

Cheers erupted around the table. “Well-played, my dear. I salute you,” intoned Dorian as he raised his mug to her. She stood on her chair and gave a bow. “Shall we play one more round,” asked the mage, “or are we calling it a night after being so thoroughly trounced?”

The spymaster hopped off her chair and gave Nymeria a gentle hug. “I must retire, but thank you so much for inviting me tonight. It has been too long since I have had such a wonderful evening with friends.” With a wave to the table, Leliana left the tavern. Josephine and Iron Bull were the next to call it a night. Varric gathered up the cards strewn across the table and put the deck in his coat pocket.

Cullen and Blackwall struck up a conversation about proper shield technique and how they varied depending on your opponent. Nymeria smiled to see the two men had managed to bury the hatchet after Blackwall revealed himself to be Thom Rainier. There had been no small amount of awkwardness between them for some time.

Nymeria took Cullen’s distraction as an opportunity. With halting steps, she walked up to Cole and whispered, “May I speak to you?” Cole nodded and led the way upstairs to his usual spot and plopped his oversized hat on the chair in the corner.

“When did you do that?” Cole looked at her quizzically. “You cut your hair. It’s not in your eyes anymore.”

Cole raked his hand absentmindedly across his forehead where his shaggy fringe had been for over two years. “I decided it was time to start looking more human, too. I have learned that humans care about their appearance, but I didn’t want to get a mask like they wear in Orlais.”

Nymeria agreed with Cole’s aversion to masks. “It looks good. I like it.” His blond hair was short and his bangs were spiked slightly upward. It was a similar style to Warden Alistair’s and she wondered if Cole had taken inspiration from it. He looked older with the new style; more confident and surer of himself. If only the same could be said for her in this moment.

Cole watched her fidget, knowing why she wanted to talk to him. He knew she was going to tell him she had decided not to be with him, but he was still surprised by how much it _hurt_. It stung worse than when Rhys abandoned him. Maybe deciding to become human had been the wrong choice, because as a spirit he could have made himself forget any pain, but now he was forced to work through it like a real man.

“Cole, I never meant to cause you pain or confuse you. I know how new this is to you and I – I had no right to lead you on.” Her green eyes were full of guilt and regret. “Remember that day in training ring…when I remembered the summer with Rasha? It brought us here and it’s my fault. I should never have let this continue, because I know how innocent and pure you are.” She closed her eyes in anguish. “I only pray you can forgive me.”

The young man stood there, unsure of how to respond to her claims. While it did hurt that she was choosing someone over him, he did not blame her for their stolen moments – _he_ had been the one to instigate their first kiss and she had obviously been dreaming of Solas when she kissed him in return.

“There is nothing to forgive. I am sad and disappointed, but I do not blame you for following your heart, Nymeria.” He scuffed the floor with his boot and whispered, “I hope you are happy with Cullen. He is a good man – proud, honest, faithful, brave. He will keep you safe.” Cole’s compassion would not allow him to tell her how much he hurt in this moment, because he did not want to compound her guilt.

“Thank you, Cole. I can already see the change in you as you become more human. I know that there will be a woman who will see you for who you are and will be just what you need her to be.” The elven woman suddenly rushed him and gave him a tight squeeze, which he could not help but return.

He closed his eyes wistfully as his arms wrapped around her petite frame and he tried not to think about the last time he had held her close. Sadly, he stepped out of her embrace and gave her a wan smile to reassure her that he was going to be okay – just as she had needed time to get over Solas, he would need time to get over her. He knew it was survivable, but the longer he held on to her the harder it would be to sever the tie between them.

Nymeria’s eyes welled with tears as she turned to flee downstairs. Halfway down she bumped into Dorian who grabbed her by the shoulders and instantly bristled to see that she was so flustered. “What did he do,” the mage demanded shooting a quick glare up the stairs in Cole’s direction.

“Nothing,” she replied testily. “I broke it off with him and despite what you believe, it hurt me to hurt him. It makes me feel as though I am no better than Solas.”

Dorian’s expression changed instantly and he pulled her in for a bone-crushing hug. “Oh, I am so sorry. I was an ass. For the record, though, you are _nothing_ like Solas, because he did not care that he hurt you, but you worry about everyone’s feelings, all the time. It is what makes you such a wonderful person. Your empathy and your capacity for love is deep.” He released her and brushed away the stray tears that had escaped their confines with a gentle smile. “Come, my dear. There is a certain commander who is most desirous of your company and I doubt that you went to all this trouble to choose the perfect outfit on my account.” With a small smile she hooked her arm through her friend’s and allowed him to escort her back to lower level of the tavern.


	11. Chapter 11

Cullen was aware of Nymeria’s departure with Cole and he unconsciously clenched his hands into tight fists as the two rogues slipped upstairs on nearly silent feet. However, he wasn’t going to interrupt their conversation, especially if she was going to end their pseudo-relationship, as he hoped. He found it hard to remain focused on the conversation with Blackwall, but when the Marcher began talking about Orlesian military techniques he picked up in Empress Celene’s service he sat in rapt attention. After absorbing all that Blackwall had to share and inviting him to hold a few training sessions in the spring for the soldiers, Cullen glanced around and realized that Nymeria was still gone.

He glanced nervously at Dorian. The mage nodded imperceptibly and headed upstairs. Cullen downed the last of his stout while he waited, but soon realized that the butterflies in his stomach disliked the addition of alcohol. Blackwall tossed back his remaining ale before standing and wishing Cullen a good night. The commander shook his head at the man’s tolerance – any other man who drank like Blackwall would either have pickled innards or be dead.

Cullen’s ears pricked at the sound of recognizable voices on the stairs. He could not make out the words, but he could hear Dorian and Nymeria whispering and then the sound of feminine sniffling. His heart lurched at the sound. He should not have been surprised that she would be upset about hurting someone else, but he just had a hard time seeing Cole as human. His experiences as a templar had left their mark and he could only see an abomination. However, he knew that Nymeria did not view him in such a harsh light and he would have to remember that he was one of her friends.

He could hear footfalls on the stairs again and pretended to take a swig from his already empty stein so it would not seem like he had been eavesdropping. As he was putting his mug down Nymeria approached him hesitantly, but with a soft smile lifting her heart-shaped mouth. “Cullen, I was hoping we could spend some time together. Unless you are ready to retire, of course.”

He stood so fast that his leg caught one of the chair legs and threatened to take them both to the ground, but his quick reflexes snagged the chair and prevented it from clattering to the stone floor bringing further embarrassment. Dorian slapped a hand over his eyes as he watched from the wings, but Cullen ignored him and finding his tongue he readily agreed to spend some time with Nymeria. The elf’s smile widened and she reached for her coat on the rack. Once again, however, Cullen was there before her with his longer stride and he held it open so she could slip her arms through. Nymeria shot a quick glance at Dorian as Cullen assisted her with her coat; her eyes even larger as they widened in surprise at the gesture. Dorian nodded approvingly and gave her a thumbs up when Cullen turned around to get his own cloak off the rack.

So many things were running through Nymeria’s head at the moment. If she had known that human men were so solicitous before she might have abandoned Solas’s attentions for Cullen’s. Then again, she had met enough humans to know that Cullen was not like any others, so maybe he was unique in his treatment of her. Which made her feel both better and worse about her herself – better that he thought so highly of her to treat her with such tenderness and worse, because she never allowed him to show her how he felt earlier. Maybe they both could have been spared pain, if she had only chosen him to begin with. And then she would not have hurt Cole, either…Creators, she needed to stop torturing herself! Leliana was right – if she had not been burned, she would not know what she wanted.

Cullen gallantly offered his elbow to her and she laughed lightly as she linked her arm through his and they exited the building. It had only grown more frigid in the dark and they dashed up the stairs to the main hall and its roaring fire. They slipped inside and chuckled breathlessly together as they leaned against the stone hearth. He stared into her bright green eyes and was pleased to see that the sparkle in them had returned after months of being shuttered and dim. Nymeria was slowly returning to life and he was hopeful that he was, at least, a small part of that transformation.

“So, where do you want to go,” he asked.

Nymeria blinked and bit her lip. “Honestly, I hadn’t thought that far. I-I wasn’t even sure I could get the courage to ask you to join me.” Her eyes darted around the room, unable to meet his steady gaze, which she was sure was judging her a fool.

“I know a place, actually. I found it recently and I was planning on surprising you with it anyway.” He straightened up and held out his hand with a boyish grin. “Now seems as good a time as any.” Her curiosity got the best of her so she took his hand and allowed him to lead her down a level towards a room she had never even noticed. He pushed the door open with a grand sweeping gesture.

Nymeria stepped into the small library in awe. A large light fixture dangled from the ceiling casting enchanted light all around the cylindrical room and effectively removing the need for candles or oil lamps that could easily set the small room ablaze. A large cherrywood desk sat on the dais while the plush armchair in emerald velvet, reminiscent of Dorian’s, invited an occupant to sit and read for hours. She ran her fingers hesitantly across the spines of tomes nearest her. “It’s marvelous. However did you find this?”

“I stumbled on it by accident during the blizzard. I was getting stir crazy sitting around with nothing to do, so I wandered around the castle and found this room covered in a hundred years of dust. Helisma cleaned and cataloged it for you. There are sections on history, philosophy, literature, biographies – you name it and I’m sure that you will find least one title that falls into that category.” He was pleased to see her so enchanted by the little library.

Nymeria wandered up to the dais and ran her hands along the rich upholstery. “Cullen,” she gazed at him in wonder, “this is simply amazing. I don’t know how to thank you.” She hugged herself in awe. “You know that few elves ever receive a proper formal education. This – this will allow me to fill in the gaps of my schooling without others knowing which books I’ve chosen. I always feel like I’m being judged on things I do not know or understand.”

Cullen moved closer. “No one is judging you as hard as you judge yourself, Nymeria. Believe me when I say that those of us at Skyhold have nothing, but respect and admiration for you. And we are not the types who would judge a person – human, elf, dwarf, Qunari, what have you – for bettering themselves by expanding their knowledge through reading.” He tilted her chin forcing her to make eye contact with him. “Trust me when I say that no one finds it more attractive than I do.” He smiled tenderly, brushing his thumb along her jaw line. “I can just imagine you curled in that chair with a steaming mug of tea reading up on local Rivani superstitions or even a ‘Knitting for Beginners’ book.”

Nymeria snorted. “Is there a knitting book? Seriously?” Cullen smirked and she knew she’d been had. She smacked his arm playfully and he laughed richly, pleased with his ability to lighten the mood.

She stared into his warm, caring eyes and her lips parted slightly of their own accord. Cullen’s breath hitched when he met her passionate gaze. “Cullen,” she whispered, “kiss me.”

Strong arms immediately wrapped around her and pulled her flush against him before he dipped his head down to capture her lips with his own. His lips were dry, but soft, and moved sweetly against her own. She twined her arms over his shoulders and cupped the back of his neck lightly with one hand. Nymeria opened her mouth and shyly slipped her tongue into his mouth. He tasted faintly of stout, but she discovered that she was not averse to it, seeing as the source was simply delicious. With a moan, she deepened the kiss and lost herself in him.

Cullen groaned and tightened his hold on her. He was trying to go slow, but the feel of her tongue against his own almost broke his control. She moaned in his mouth and moved her tongue farther and more confidently with his. Cullen could feel his breeches growing uncomfortably tight and he knew he needed to create some space between them. He pulled back and admired the woman in his arms – eyes glassed over, lips red and plump, breasts rising and falling rapidly with desire. He could scarcely believe that he had done that to her, but he was more concerned about her finding out what she did to him, so he angled his hips to the side before her leg could discover his lack of restraint.

She sighed happily. Creators, who knew that a human could kiss her so thoroughly that he turned her knees to jelly?

Cullen chuckled softly as they separated. “ _That_ was how I always envisioned a kiss between us would be. Not the one in the cave that I sprung on you.”

Nymeria smirked. “Well, if you had kissed me like that in the cave, I’m pretty sure everyone would have seen more of us than they ever expected to.”

The man blushed at the insinuation that she wanted to see more of him. He straightened his clothes without making eye contact and cleared his throat nervously. “We should head back. It’s late and I do not want to keep you up all night.”

The woman’s lips quirked. “Are you sure you don’t want to keep me awake all night, Commander?” Nymeria closed the distance between them again and pressed her thigh against his obvious bulge.

His chest rose and fell rapidly as he mentally painted a picture of lust and desire that would last until dawn when they would finally collapse in each other’s arms, sweat plastering them to the sheets, and they would fall asleep blissfully sated. He wanted it. Maker knows how often he had fantasized about how he would love her body with the same intensity that his heart loved her soul...but he just couldn’t. Not yet, anyway. He would have liked the knowledge that she loved him, too, but if she wasn’t capable of loving someone at the moment, he needed to know that she had feelings that went beyond lust for him, at the very least.

Cullen closed his eyes and groaned. Damn his moral code! Right now, it was really putting a damper on his evening, but he just wasn’t the type to fall into bed carelessly. He had done that only twice in his life. The first time after leaving the Ferelden circle on his way to the Free Marches so he would not die a virgin. The second time, after the explosion in Kirkwall, he had allowed himself to drink too much and fall into bed with a pretty young Templar who had fancied him for some time. Both times Cullen awoke in the morning racked with guilt and disgust for his own weakness. He swore after Kirkwall that he would never bed a woman again that he did not love. Now she was here – and he wasn’t able to take her to bed, because he was terrified she would feel that same contempt in the morning when she looked at him.

Instead of speaking, he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers softly, and then whispered in her ear, “My lady, I want nothing more, but you…deserve more than just one night.” Cullen stepped back and stared down at her, still speaking in an undertone, “I would give you all of them.”

Nymeria tingled from head to toe. It felt like she was standing near Dorian during one of his electric spells, vibrating to her very core and covering her skin in goosebumps. Creators, she’d never felt like this with Solas or Cole – what did this mean? He was so obviously fervent that she had no problem believing that he meant every word, but the sensations were so heady they threatened to overwhelm her; Nymeria was unsure if she could trust herself to reply.

“Cullen –“ That was all she managed before his lips silenced hers once more and she allowed herself to be carried away by the passion in his kiss. It was deep. It was hungry. It was everything she ever wanted and she never wanted him to stop. Her head was spinning; she didn’t know up from down, left from right – all she knew was Cullen.

With a sad moan, the commander pried himself from her luscious mouth and through sheer force of will, he stopped his lips from traveling down her neck. Further exploration would only spell disaster for him and he did not want to cross a line with Nymeria. If her face was any judge, her body definitely wanted to continue this cat-and-mouse game they were playing, but uncertainty still swirled in her eyes and he would not take her to bed until doubt no longer clouded her mind.

“Come, I’ll escort you back to your tower.” The elven woman nodded mutely as he led the way back through the lower level and up to the main hall. Nymeria noticed Cullen’s posture was more rigid than usual and there was an air of sadness emanating from him. She bit her lip and wrung her hands anxiously as she followed him through the dimly lit halls. They finally emerged in the hall and Cullen walked her right to her door.

Rubbed his neck awkwardly, he struggled to maintain eye contact. “I-I am sorry if I came on too strong tonight. Ahem...er, I said some... weighty things and I understand if you need time…or space or…” Cullen trailed off nervously.

Nymeria cleared her throat and managed to find her lost voice. “I can think on what you have said without avoiding you. I-I enjoy being with you…er, your company!” She blushed furiously and ducked her head. “Sorry, that was a little louder than I meant for it to be.”

Cullen chuckled softly. “We are a pair, aren’t we?” Nymeria giggled. It was true – they were kind of hopeless. Taking her hand, he bowed deeply while pressing a tender kiss to her fingers, “Goodnight, Nymeria.”

“Goodnight,” she breathed as he released her hand with a charming smile and marched towards the guest hall. Nymeria remained there for a moment, hand still in the air, listening to his confident footfalls ring against the flagstone until they finally faded into silence. Shaking herself out of her reverie, she dropped her hand bashfully, flaming beet red and supremely grateful that no one was around to see it before dashing into her quarters.

Leaning heavily against the door, she tried to catch her breath and organize her scattered thoughts. Her mind was churning and her body was still tingling. She was hyperaware of every place that his body had touched her own. She could still feel the weight of his arms as he held her, the touch of his calloused palm on her hand, but her lips…Nymeria ran up the stairs and stopped in front of her wardrobe mirror.

She ran her fingertips lightly across her plump mouth, amazed at the increase in size and color still left over from their amorous embrace. When Cullen kissed her, it made her feel alive – it was the first time in months that she had felt so free. Nymeria smiled at her reflection. Cullen was a well-spring of untapped desire. There was so much more to the man than just military strategy and a sexy smirk. Like the library! Who would have known that he could surprise her like that? And then he’d teased her about knitting, of all things.

Nymeria snorted at the recollection and plopped onto her bed to pry off her boots and shimmy out of her clothes. She slipped on a nightgown and robe and poured herself a glass of spiced wine that the servants left every evening. She sipped it slowly to help her relax and make sense of everything that had happened. She closed her eyes and heard his voice, “ _I would give you all of them_.”

Her heart stuttered in her chest and she took a few ragged breaths to calm down again. He meant...every night. ALL the nights of their lives, he wanted to share them with her. Did that mean…did he _love_ her? Merciful Creators! She had assumed when he told her that he cared for her that it was not yet deep enough to be called love. But no – this meant that he had been _in_ love with her for Creator’s knew how long; probably while she was with Solas. And she had been so sure all this time that no human could love a _Dalish elf_ and it was part of the reason she ended up pursuing Solas, even though he showed contempt for their people.

“Elgar’nan, I’m an idiot.” Nymeria polished off the last of her wine and set the glass on her bedside table. She hopped off the bed and paced in front of the hearth as she continued to digest things. He told her that he missed her vallaslin and tonight when she tried to hide her ears Cullen had gently told her not to. Cullen said his favorite thing about her was her Dalish heritage and he did not seem bothered that she was not Andrastian and had no intentions of converting. He saw _her_. When he looked at her, he did not see the Inquisitor or a dirty knife-ear risen too high above her station. She could not even be certain that Solas ever truly saw who she was; he seemed more surprised that the Dalish managed to produce a single elf that he deemed worthy of speaking to.

Cullen was a rare person, that was true. He confided in her the unspeakable torture he experienced at the circle and explained that the next ten years in Kirkwall were no better. She knew they were both scarred, physically and emotionally, by their past. Yet, even for all their insecurities, there was something about them clicked when they were together - like gears slotting perfectly together and working in unison to power a machine. He let down his guard with her; she could not recall hearing him laugh as much as he did tonight. And she relaxed around him, too, knowing that she could be herself and not second guess everything she said or did.

Nymeria did not start out this this self-conscious and unsure of herself when she had been with her clan. But after their massacre in Wycome, she lost the last link to her former self. Add to that, her job demanded she daily deal with humans who held elves in such low esteem. Even after saving the world there were many who wanted to see her brought low. Her confidence was understandably damaged. She once hoped her former lover would have been more empathetic and willing to listen to her fears, but he never wanted to talk about anything relating to elves. Solas did tell her that he found her to be strong and capable and he once admitted the Dalish did one thing right in shaping her. At the time she had been pleased to hear him say it, but now she heard it for the backhanded compliment it actually was and it felt like an ice-cold dagger to the gut.

Her entire relationship with him had been an illusion. She thought what they had was real, but their first kiss had been in the Fade and when he had finally kissed her in their waking hours on her balcony, she had to stop him from walking away. They had many such stolen moments – quick kisses in passing or a private dance at the Winter Palace, but there had always been an undercurrent of _something_ that bubbled below the surface; furtive and secretive, it prevented her from fully knowing Solas.

None of that existed with Cullen. He was warm and caring, a little awkward maybe, but that was part of his appeal. She loved his smirk and the way the scar on his lip added just a hint of roguishness to his face. She appreciated that he was so honest and she could count on him to never lie to her, whether it be about the Inquisition or more personal matters. Honestly, there was very little she could find to fault in him. Could he be a little closed-minded regarding magic? Yes, he could, but she could not blame him considering how his entire life had been affected by it and after her own experiences with the Breach, she had to admit to some trepidation of her own regarding magical forces.

Still, even with his hesitance towards magic, he had supported her decision to recruit the mages, albeit with some valid concerns regarding possible possession. Again, it was a fair point and they had put checks in place to help prevent such occurrences.

Nymeria admitted that her feelings for Cullen went deeper than she realized and there was very little she could find that would keep her from further pursuing this relationship. He was nothing like Solas. It would be unconscionable for him to treat her as callously as that. And unlike Cole, he was already human and able to navigate his emotions. He had demonstrated considerable self-control tonight in the face of her wanton behavior.

She flushed crimson to think of the what she’d said and how she’d rubbed her body against his so brazenly. What in the Creator’s name had come over her, anyway? His relaxed demeanor and playfulness revealed a new side to Cullen rarely seen and it was so damn attractive. He was the total package – handsome, smart, witty, gentle, caring. Nymeria was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. She recalled the headiness that descended on her as Cullen fiercely claimed her mouth and how that feeling was magnified when he declared his intentions towards her.

Nymeria recalled the flirtatious banter they shared in Haven, how Cullen was willing to explain military tactics, even training with her so she was more confident in battle. He was always patient and kind – firm during their sparring when it was required – but never cruel or sharp tongued about her mistakes. Blackwall and Iron Bull also helped her, but she’d always preferred his teaching style and he was quick to celebrate her success, even something as small as proper footwork or a parrying technique with her bow.

Remembering the terrified look on his face when she emerged from the blizzard after Corypheus attacked Haven - he wrapped her in his cloak and pulled her against his chest thanking Andraste and the Maker that she was alive. She did recall that even with his cold breastplate, she snuggled closer to him, breathing his sandalwood scent and reveling in the security that washed over her. And after they arrived at Skyhold, Cullen was so anguished at the thought that she could have perished in Haven that his reaction unleashed butterflies in her stomach while her heart pounded in her ears when he promised to protect her.

Considering everything in hindsight, Nymeria wondered why in the Creator’s name she thought Solas was a better choice for her. They did have their Fade kiss shortly after their arrival in the fortress and maybe that was the turning point. Cullen had been all talk until that point and she was afraid to hope for more, while Solas made his move – and it was a bold one. But re-examining things tilted Nymeria’s world on her axis. Puzzle pieces she had previously ignored or did not see because she was blinded by someone else, began to fall into place until it was complete and she could see the full picture.

A hand flew to her mouth in a shocking realization as her knees buckled slightly and she clutched the mantle on the hearth to steady herself. “Mythal enaste,” she breathed, “I think I might be in love with Cullen and have been since Haven.”


	12. Chapter 12

The next week passed slowly and quietly. Another snow storm had settled over the mountains and was attempting to bury them in mounds of freezing slush. It lacked the intense wind of a blizzard, but there was no shortage of snowfall from the heavy clouds.

Spending anytime outside of the castle walls was not an option, so the Inquisitor secreted herself in her personal library during the day. Nymeria ducked into the room following breakfast that Saturday, making sure that no one followed her, and whiled away the day reading. There were quite a few books about elven lore; granted they were written by professors in Orlais, but they were full of stories she’d never heard and theories on how the ancient elves practiced their faith. It was fascinating to read stories collected from other Dalish clans and to see how they differed from clan to clan. And even if the theories were conjecture, it was thought-provoking, to say the least. Most of what the Dalish had regarding their own history was pure speculation, anyhow. This merely added new depth to what she'd already been taught.

She devoured the first book and was a quarter of the way through “Disseminating Elvish: Ancient Lost Languages,” when her stomach growled loudly in the silence. The enchanted light and lack of windows made it impossible to tell how much time had passed, but she was sure it was near dinner time and she skipped lunch. With a sigh, she moved the ribbon marker in the book to indicate where she left off and gave the etching of written Elvish a final glance. So much had been lost, but maybe with Morrigan’s newfound understanding of Elvhen culture and language, they could reclaim some of it. First, though, she would have to learn to read it. Usually only Keepers and Firsts could read Elvish, and even then, they could only read bits and pieces because there were few written records to use as tools for learning.

Her stomach rumbled insistently and she closed the book with a snap of irritation. When she returned, she would find a spicy Nevarran romance to get lost in, something mindless to give her overworked brain a break. Nymeria slipped out of the library, keeping to the shadows to avoid being spotted by a kitchen servant as she made her way towards the main hall and dinner.

She arrived in the main hall to find dinner had already been cleared away. She sighed in frustration. How long had she been in the library? Nymeria glanced out the window above her throne and saw the moons hanging high in the black sky. No wonder she was starving! She’d been sequestered all day!

“Call off the search, I found her!” Varric’s loud voice echoed in the hall. Nymeria startled and turned in the direction of the dwarf. He was bent over slightly, trying to catch his breath as though he’d been running, relief painted on his face. Dorian came running up behind him, followed by Leliana and Josephine.

“Thank the Maker,” exclaimed Leliana while Josephine smiled happily at the elven woman.

Dorian strode over and gave her a tight hug. She attempted to return the embrace, but Dorian stepped back with a disappointed frown and shook her lightly by the shoulders. “Will you stop disappearing? Andraste’s ass, I cannot handle thinking that you could be lost.”

Nymeria put her hands on his chest to calm him. “I’m sorry. I let the day slip away from me. I-I was reading all day and I lost track of time.”

Leliana looked at her questioningly. “But you were not in the library or your chambers. Where have you been?”

The elf did not want to give up her one place of solitude, but she knew of a place far enough away that they had probably neglected to search it. “One of the battlement rooms that is empty. It’s far away and quiet.”

“I thought none of those rooms had fireplaces. It is why I haven’t fixed them up for guests. How were you able to stay in one all day and not freeze to death,” queried the ambassador.

They were all staring her down now and she could feel herself shrinking under the combined weight of their gaze. Nymeria opened her mouth in resignation to give away her refuge, but was prevented from answering.

“I know where she has been. She was never in any danger.” Cullen strode into the hall wearing leather breeches and a cream tunic and casually leaned against the stone wall, crossing his arms over his chest. Everyone turned to stare at the commander instead, expecting him to give up more information, but he remained tight lipped. Leliana narrowed her eyes dangerously and motioned for him to continue. Cullen shrugged nonchalantly. “Everyone is entitled to their secrets, especially in their own castle, wouldn’t you agree?”

Leliana glanced between them. “Indeed. Although, I am curious as to how _you_ know this secret and I do not?”

Cullen smirked. “Ah, you have stumbled upon another entitled secret. Alas, this one is mine and I do not feel like divulging today, Sister Nightingale.”

A few heartbeats passed as those assembled tried to work out what might have transpired between the Inquisitor and their Commander, but no one broached any further attempts to gather information as the commander’s lips were sealed tighter than a drum. All of those present were aware that, if not for Cullen’s presence, Nymeria would have spilled her guts about her secret hiding place. But ever the knight, he came to her rescue to guarantee that none could swoop in and take that away. Swooping was bad, after all.

Varric was filled with pride by Cullen’s chivalry and pleased that it seemed Nymeria would finally have the advocate she’d always wanted. The dwarf was not blind to the relaxed body language of the man and the way his brown eyes sparkled with mirth at this secret he shared with Nymeria. Glancing over at the elven woman, Varric caught the faint twitch of her lips as Cullen teased them with his mysterious knowledge. He also noticed the way she drank in the sight of him with the same expression as the day they discovered the oasis in the desert. He was pretty sure she would need another cold dip in the waterfall to tame her full-body blush. Then again, with the heated staring contest between the pair, it was more likely that if a waterfall was nearby, they would have taken a dip in it together – naked.

Oh, yes, something had definitely happened there – something that melted away Cullen’s cool façade and thawed him into an actual human. He never would have guessed that Curly had a sense of humor.

“I see,” Leliana backed down and turned to Nymeria. “I am just glad you are alright.” She smiled and headed up the stairs to her tower.

Dorian grinned mischievously. “Well, my dear, it seems you are in good hands.” He winked suggestively at her, and the elf was tempted to smack him upside the head, but she managed to rein in the urge. “Do come visit me tomorrow – we have much to discuss.” He jerked his head in the direction of the library to Varric and the dwarf gave her a quick wave before making his escape. It was time for Varric to get all the details that Dorian had been holding out on him.

Josephine smiled warmly at the Inquisitor as she passed through the hall. “Do you require anything, my lady?”

“A dinner tray in my chambers, if you do not mind. I apologize for scaring all of you. I just lost track of time.”

The Antivan laughed. “If it was a Nevarran romance, I completely understand. Those are simply impossible to put down!” Josephine was diplomatic enough to not comment on the blush that colored the young woman’s cheeks. “I will have a tray sent to you with all haste. Goodnight, Your Worship,” she dipped into a small curtsy and headed for the kitchen, leaving Nymeria and Cullen alone in the hall.

Nymeria felt his eyes upon her and she fluttered her hands anxiously. “Thank you for coming along when you did. I was about to tell them – “

“I know, that is why I had to stop you.” He pushed off the wall and closed the distance between them. “You do not have to give every part of yourself away to the Inquisition, Nymeria. Even though people may demand that you do so or expect it of you, it does not mean that our political transparency translates to you personally having no privacy. No place to call your own. Even your chambers are not sacred. When you are up there, people know where you are and they wait for you come down like a starving mabari to descend upon you with endless petitions.”

The elf laughed. “I do love your metaphors. They are very colorful and usually very accurate.”

Cullen chuckled. “Thank you. I just came up with that one, but I will remember it for future.”

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, enjoying the other’s presence. Nymeria could smell his pomade and as the intoxicating fragrance washed over her it caused warmth to radiate throughout her body.

“Would you…care to join me in my quarters, Cullen?”

His brown eyes widened in shock and he suddenly seemed unsure of himself. “I, ahem, if that is your wish...” He trailed off nervously.

“It is my wish,” she tried to say it with confidence, but it sounded hesitant even to her ears.

Cullen nodded and followed behind her all the way to her room. He had never been up here, of course, and he was quite surprised by the spacious accommodations and dual balconies. There was even room for a couch and a desk with plenty of floor space left over to move freely. The water clock gifted to her by King Bhelen caught his attention. He watched in fascination as the pendulum that powered the clock was calibrated to the correct weight with a specific amount of water inside. As the water-filled pendulum swung it moved the minute and hour hands through a series of gears. Since the water was sealed in the pendulum there was never any need to refill it due to evaporation and therefore, one never had to worry that the clock would slow down or stop.

He turned to her with a grin. “Ingenious! This is quite advanced from an ancient water clock for a people who never see the passing of the sun to tell time.”

Nymeria nodded, pleased to see his keen interest. “It is my favorite bauble that I have been gifted as Inquisitor, for that reason. Not only is it functional and practical, it’s a brilliant piece of machinery and I know how much the dwarves strive to retain their culture by keeping it hidden underground.”

Nymeria was explaining the finer points of the mechanism when a young kitchen servant appeared bearing a dinner tray. “Oh, beggin’ your pardon. I knocked, but – “

The Inquisitor smiled brightly. “It is not a problem. Thank you for coming all the way up here for me.” She walked around the desk and gently took the tray from the startled girl. “Here,” she passed something to her. The girl looked like she was about to refuse, but the soft expression on the Inquisitor’s face stopped her.

The servant girl curtsied deeply. “Your Worship. Commander,” she managed before disappearing down the stairs and out the door.

Nymeria chuckled and poured herself a glass of wine. She indicated the small stand next to the couch and Cullen walked over to it curiously. He lifted the lid to find an array of glassware. He turned to her, one perfect eyebrow cocked, “You have a liquor cabinet?”

She snorted. “Some days require more than wine to unwind. Open the left side door, if you want something stronger than spiced wine.” Nymeria raised her glass in a small salute and took a sip.

Opening the door, Cullen found small decanters of various liquors, mostly a variety of brandies. He shook his head slightly at this newest discovery – she was a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma, but he was happy she was giving him a chance to crack her code. He sniffed a couple of the more promising ones before making his choice and pouring a small snifter. He copied her salute and took a sip, instantly humming in appreciation as his mouth exploded with smooth citrus but was surprised with the sweet richness of caramel that lingered on his tongue.

The elf laughed around a mouthful of her sandwich. She swallowed quickly so she could speak. “Yes, that one is the best. Antivan brandy. It was a gift from Josephine for helping her with the House of Repose. The decanter next to it is my second favorite; West Hill brandy. Not as sweet a finisher, but I like the subtle fruit notes. I’m sure you would appreciate that one, too, being a native Ferelden.”

Nymeria waved at the couch. “Please, sit. Make yourself at home. Did you want anything to eat?” She looked at her tray and offered the other half of her sandwich, but Cullen only shook his head with a smile as he sank onto the couch.

“No, thank you. I ate too much at dinner and this is all I have room for.”

She bit her lip. “If you’re sure. I also have an apple I would be happy to share.” Cullen smiled wider and declined the offer. Nymeria finished the rest of her tray quickly, topped off her wine glass and abandoned her desk to join Cullen on the couch. “Thank you for coming, even if you were forced to watch me eat.” She smiled shyly at him, noticing how relaxed he seemed and how handsome he looked draped comfortably in her bedroom.

“Thank you for inviting me. I have never been up here – not even when they were setting it up for you. You have an amazing view.” He stopped and took another sip of brandy. It was definitely loosening his tongue; he’d almost slipped up and said that _she_ was an amazing view.

It was true, though. The fire light from the hearth cast a warm glow over her, adding color to her chiseled elven features, making her green eyes look even brighter. The wine stained her lips a muted red and he desperately wanted to lean in and capture them with his own. He was not a fan of wine, but he was sure he wouldn’t mind tasting it from her mouth.

Nymeria hoped he did not notice the full-body flush she was currently experiencing. She wanted to chalk it up to the alcohol and the fact that she waited too long to eat, but she knew the reason for her heated response was sitting beside her. She looked over at him and caught a glimpse of that damnable smirk behind his snifter, but he feigned innocence and took another sip. Creators, he was going to be the death of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enigma quote borrowed from Winston Churchill, BBC Broadcast, October 1, 1939


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SMUT, SMUTTY, SMUT. DEFINITELY NSFW.

She had run out of small talk. Thankfully, the clock gave them something to talk about prior to her dinner arriving or it would have been a much shorter evening. Now, though, she could not come up with a single topic of conversation to keep things moving.

“So, I’m curious,” asked Cullen, “what did you give the serving girl? I saw you slip her something, but I couldn’t tell what it was.”

Nymeria laughed softly. “It was nothing, really, just a trinket I found on one of my trips. It’s not like I was using it. Why let it go to waste? Besides, I felt bad making her come up here so late just at my expense.” She stared into her wine. “It feels like an abuse of power.”

Cullen placed a hand lightly on her knee. “First, it is not an abuse of power for you to request things of the people who make their livelihood out of meeting those needs. Second, I think that was very thoughtful. I am sure that whatever it was you gave her will be cherished.”

The elf nodded and gave him a small smile. “Thank you.” He was closer to her now, his lips tantalizingly close and she ached to feel them pressed against her own, reveling in the lingering taste of brandy on his tongue. Ignoring the butterflies in her stomach Nymeria leaned forward and lightly brushed her lips against his, but before she could move back to her place on the couch, Cullen removed the glass from her hand and pulled her into his lap.

“I was hoping you wanted to do that,” he murmured in her ear before he kissed down her neck and back up to gently nibble her earlobe. Nymeria moaned and tossed her head back, exposing more of her neck for easier access, which he quickly took advantage of. She could feel the desire boiling in her veins, pooling in her core, and she was embarrassed that her small clothes were quickly becoming damp. She was not alone in her ardor, however; Cullen’s desire for her was quite evident in his leather breeches and the longer her body hovered over him the more she craved him.

“Cullen,” she breathed.

He practically growled to hear his name fall from her lips in need and he moved from her neck to her mouth in a searing kiss. Their tongues dueled in desperation for each other. He placed his hands on her ass and lightly squeezed her tight cheeks which garnered a ragged moan in his mouth. Bracing her against his body, he scooted forward on the couch and then stood effortlessly and carried her the short distance to the bed. Cullen laid her down and stooped over her, suddenly hesitant.

“Tell me to stop if this is not what you want.”

“Don’t stop, Cullen. Don’t ever stop.”

She reached out to him in invitation and with a deep breath he took her hand and gingerly crawled above her on the bed. Hunger and need swirled in his amber eyes, but she could see that he still fought a battle of indecision. Nymeria knew he worried that they were moving too fast, but in her gut she was sure. She was confident of his intentions towards her and she had known him for almost two years. True, they would continue to learn more about each other on a personal level, but she was not falling into bed with a stranger. She knew Cullen as a man of integrity and depth with a hidden sense of humor and fierce passion. Stretching out her hand, she ran it along his stubbled jaw and forced him to make eye contact.

“I care for you…more than you know,” Nymeria whispered and was rewarded to see the anxiety melt from his body and hope fill his eyes.

“Truly?” he queried. He rained kisses across her face, her neck, her ears, everywhere he could find exposed skin. “Praise Andraste, I’ve waited ages to hear you say that.”

Her laughter bounced gaily around the room and lifted his spirit even higher. Cullen gazed at the woman beneath him, stopping his heart momentarily at her effortless beauty – snow-white hair spread like a halo around her face, doe-eyes slightly hooded with desire, and those luscious pink lips that begged to be kissed some more.

Smiling, he moved his lips to her neck again and kissed toward her collarbone. Pulling her blouse aside to get a better angle, he dipped his tongue along the sensitive skin and relished how she arched with pleasure. He moved to the other side and repeated his actions until she was clawing at him for more.

The fire in her belly had taken up residence lower down and was raging like a forest aflame. Cullen’s head was within reach so she twined her fingers in his hair and pulled gently, but insistently, and was taken aback by the guttural noise that left his handsome mouth. Experimentally, Nymeria pulled his hair again and watched in fascination as another deep groan passed his lips and a free hand clutched at the bed cover. She smirked at the discovery, pleased that she could bring him pleasure, too. Cullen opened his eyes and caught her smirking.

“Minx,” he grinned and reached up to pull on her strands, marveling first at their silkiness and then at her surprised reaction when he tugged slightly. Her eyes rolled back in her head and her mouth turned into a perfect “O” as she experienced the same crash of ecstasy that he had. He carefully untangled his fingers from her hair and gave her a minute to catch her breath.

She opened her eyes and panted at him, “I think I like that one.”

He chuckled, “Me, too.”

Deciding it was time to move on, Cullen sat up and ignoring her frown, he reached for the hem of his tunic and swiftly yanked it off and tossed it carelessly across the room. Nymeria’s eyes darkened hungrily and Cullen’s heart skipped a beat. He gingerly scooped her up and moved them a little higher up the bed so he had more room to stretch out. Once her head was settled amongst the pillows Cullen moved a hand to the hem of her blouse and slowly crept underneath to touch the skin it was hiding.

Her breath hitched at the soft contact and Cullen paused to look at her. She nodded vigorously for him to continue. His calloused hand grazed her torso and sent electricity coursing through her veins. Creators! She couldn’t take it anymore – the damnable top had to go. Nymeria’s fingers moved to the top button of her blouse and began working them all free. She was pleased that she had captivated her lover’s attention – Cullen’s chest rose and fell rapidly as more and more of her creamy skin was revealed in the fire light. Nymeria sat up slightly to free her arms from her sleeves, which brought her face to face with Cullen.

One strong hand cupped her neck and pulled her in for a breathless kiss while the other helped her escape the confines of her shirt. Once the top was gone, Cullen slowly eased her back against the bed, his hands finally able to explore the softness of her skin. Moving his lips to her stomach he bestowed feather light kisses on her scars, around her belly button, and the small birth mark on her ribcage. He wanted to memorize every mark on her body until he knew it better than his own. His fingers brushed against her breast band and he caressed the mounds underneath with tantalizing tenderness. Occasionally his thumb would rub across the center feeling her nipples harden more with each pass.

She felt like she was on fire all over – inside and out! She thought she had been on fire before, but that had obviously been a simple torch. How could she ever mistake the two? Cullen’s thumb circled her nipple again and she nearly broke her back arching her breast wantonly into his palm.

Maker! He’d heard stories of some women being hyper-responsive while in the throes of passion, but he’d never experienced it himself. Her response to his touch was making him painfully hard, but at the same time, he did not want to end this delicious foreplay. He slid his fingers under the band and slowly began to lift it over her head – he purposefully stared into her eyes as he did so, hoping that the love he felt for her was evident in his own. Once the band was gone, he kissed her chastely on the lips before trailing to his true destination.

Her breaths were coming in ragged pants now and she tried to calm her nerves by running her hands across his strong shoulders and back. His skin was fair, a golden sheen from the fire light dancing along the planes of his torso, now hers to touch and admire at length. All that raw strength hidden under his armor and loose tunics revealed for her alone. Nymeria could feel the muscles rolling in his shoulders and back as he settled himself between her breasts. She focused on the softness of his skin stretched taut over his warrior's build underneath her fingers to distract herself from her anxiety as his warm breath ghosted across her exposed chest.

Cullen could see her tension, so he propped himself up and kissed the outline of her ear. “Beautiful,” he whispered. “The most beautiful woman in all Thedas.” She giggled and some of the tension melted from her shoulders.

Kissing his way back down, he ran a hand reassuringly up and down her arm and then his lips found their target. Her breasts were not large, they just filled his hand, but elves were a petite people and Cullen did not care about size. To him they were perfect because they were part of her. He watched her as he took one of her pale pink nipples in his mouth and rolled his tongue around it. He smiled to himself as she nearly bucked off the bed and gasped in surprise banishing her anxiety. Cullen was amazed to find the nipple that had just been in his mouth was now colored a deep rose.

Nymeria glanced down at the man who was staring in fascination at her breasts and she instantly felt better about being fully bare with him. He was comparing her nipples in wonder before moving to the one he had not yet explored and she managed to keep her body on the bed, but lava had officially taken up residence in her loins. His tongue flicked across one of her peaks and Nymeria gasped.

“Merciful Creators!” She keened and writhed on the bed as the unexpected orgasm crashed over her again and again until her legs trembled.

Cullen sprawled out beside her. He’d been forced to move as the suddenness of her climax almost saw him kicked in the face. He watched her come down from her high and wondered if she had any experience at all, even self-exploration...if she did not, it would explain much of why she was so incredibly sensitive. But he had been patient this long – he could continue to wait or go more slowly for her sake.

Nymeria pulled in ragged breaths and opened her eyes to find Cullen next to her. He smirked and took her hand.

“I-I apologize,” she rasped. “I have never…had one so power…powerful before. I didn’t even feel…it coming on.”

He breathed a silent sigh of relief. Thank the Maker, she was not as virginal as he had feared. She was just incredibly sensitive – he could work with that. Brushing her platinum hair out of her eyes Cullen smiled warmly, “Never apologize for your pleasure. It makes me feel quite accomplished, actually.”

Nymeria laughed breathlessly. “It should. You are…more than I deserve, Cullen.” He quickly propped himself up on his elbow and stared at her, dumbfounded.

“No, it is definitely the other way around. I cannot even tell you all the ways that you are out of my realm of attainability.” 

She laughed with more substance this time. “Honestly, do you not remember the following you attracted at the Winter Palace? Women _and_ men wanted a piece of Cullen Stanton Rutherford.” Cullen shuddered in horror as she reminded him of the night that led to months of inquiries from “interested parties” and unappreciated proposals by noblewomen all across Orlais. “They probably still pine after their lost chance to see you nude.”

“Yes, well, the only woman I have designs on seeing me nude is currently next to me. On a bed conveniently…but you have yet to see me in such a state,” he pointed out.

Nymeria grinned wickedly and reached for his belt buckle. “Well, we should rectify that, shouldn’t we?”

In an instant her rogue reflexes had her perched atop him, pinning him into the mattress and he suddenly found himself at her mercy. He swallowed hard as her small breasts swayed with each movement she made. He was so mesmerized that he did not realize her deft fingers had already unhooked his belt and unlaced the closure of his breeches, until her small hands began pulling them off. He gasped in surprise and found her smirking wickedly above him in triumph.

He decided to lie back and let her have this victory. Lifting his hips, he helped her shuck his leather breeches and watched as her victory turned to surprise. Cullen was not one for small clothes – as a warrior they chafed under the multiple layers of a uniform, so he had learned years ago to forego them. _Now,_ she would be able tell the Orlesian nobles that she had seen him nude while they had not and his lips quirked in a teasing smile.

Nymeria recovered quickly and curiously studied him. She did not know if he would be considered average size or slightly larger as she had nothing to compare it to. She'd seen boys naked when they were younger, usually when they were bathing in a stream, but she never seen a man – especially an aroused man. She shyly asked his approval to touch him with a glance and he nodded encouragingly.

Her fingers lightly brushed his cock and he nearly came undone. He clung desperately to the bed cover to retain control, but he couldn’t contain the garbled string of curses that fell from his lips. Cullen could hear Nymeria chuckle softly and he wished his brain were working to fire off a witty retort, but intelligent speech was beyond him in this moment. Her hand was wrapped around his length, rubbing up and down uncertainly, and he couldn’t stop his hips from bucking to achieve the perfect amount of friction. That was it – he couldn’t wait much longer.

He wrapped a leg around her and flipped her onto her back before she could wriggle out of his grasp. Nymeria laughed at his playfulness – the part of him that he only seemed to let out around her. Their lips met hungrily and both of them worked furiously to get her out of her breeches. The lava between her legs had returned with a vengeance and she was ready to join her body to Cullen’s.

The offensive article of clothing was finally tossed aside and Cullen kissed the dip where her hips met her pelvis. Her small clothes were noticeably wet in the center and Cullen moaned lustfully. With shaking hands, he pulled down the last scrap of clothing she wore until she was finally bare. Her ivory skin was flushed a charming shade of pink from her chest to her ears and a dusting of platinum curls framed her most intimate place.

Cullen had never felt this way about his other lovers and he was unprepared for the sudden feeling that overwhelmed him. Nymeria had trusted him with her heart after everything she had been through and here they were – willingly she invited him to her bed because she wanted to know what love could be. She wanted to be with him. She had chosen him. That knowledge made his heart nearly explode out of his chest and he spoke without thinking.

“Ar lath ma, vhenan.”

Nymeria stilled under his hands, her eyes wide, and she struggled to breathe.

“What did you say,” she squeaked.

He cursed his stupidity and avoided looking directly at her. “I-I was teaching myself a few phrases of Elvish. I am sorry. I didn’t think...I shouldn’t have...maybe I should go.”

Feeling as though the moment was ruined Cullen moved to the edge of the bed, but stopped when her hand grabbed him by the arm. He hung his head in shame and kept his face turned away from her. He felt the bed dip as she moved and then her hand swept his now untidy hair off his forehead.

“Cullen, look at me.”

He swallowed hard, but did as she requested and instantly felt like a royal ass to see the tears welling in her eyes. 

“The last time someone said that to me – they left. You cannot say that and leave me, too.”

He closed his eyes and clenched his fist to keep himself from slamming it into another piece of furniture.

“Nymeria, I –“

She stopped him with a finger pressed against his lips. The elven woman breathed deeply to keep the tremor out of her voice, but wasn’t quite successful.

“Did you mean it,” she whispered.

Cullen stared at her, trying to read her expression, but aside from the tears her face was purposefully neutral. He cleared his throat and blushed deeply.

“Yes, I meant it. I _do_ mean it. I have loved you for…far longer than I should admit.” Nymeria blinked and the tears fell unchecked onto her naked skin.

Heaving a large sigh, he continued, “I am truly sorry if I caused you pain. I didn’t even consider that he might have…I should have held my tongue.”

“No!” Nymeria clutched his arm tightly and Cullen could feel her nails digging into his flesh.

“Oh Cullen,” she breathed against his neck. “Don’t you see? I only realized what everyone else has known for two years. Solas was a mistake. It’s you – it’s always been you.” She paused to take a steadying breath. “I love you, vhenan,” she whispered against his ear.

Spinning to face her he grasped her by the shoulders with shaking hands and croaked, “Can you repeat that?”

Nymeria chuckled softly through her tears, “I love you, Cullen.”

Cullen peppered her with kisses and pulled her down on the bed with him. Their ardor rekindled it did not take long for them pick up where they had left off. Cullen’s hands and lips traveled across all the places he’d discovered she liked and once she seemed sufficiently excited again, he gently pressed a single finger inside her opening. Nymeria gasped at the slight intrusion – it felt much different when someone else was touching her.

He slowly slid the digit in and out of her and once she relaxed, he picked up the pace until she was meeting him thrust for thrust. Gingerly he added a second finger so her body could adjust to his girth since she was elven and therefore had narrower hips than a human. She stiffened again and he was glad that he had taken his time. He repeated the process and by the time she was riding his fingers, Nymeria was chanting his name with desperation.

Sitting up, he lined himself at with her entrance and silently prayed to the Maker that he would not hurt her. He bobbed his tip against her to get himself slick and tilted her chin up so she would look at him.

“I love you,” he whispered. “I will try not to hurt you. Tell me if you need me to stop.”

She bit her lip anxiously, but nodded firmly and pressed herself against him in encouragement. Breathing deeply, Cullen inched forward watching her face for any signs of pain. He gritted his teeth as he continued to bury himself – she was so tight because of those narrow hips. If he were not trying to be so careful, he would have enjoyed the tight fit, but he was hyper aware of the sensation since he was moving at a snail’s pace. Nymeria was breathing rapidly, but had not indicated serious discomfort. His movement was stalled as he expected to find a barrier, it made him nauseous to think of causing her pain, but there was none. He breathed a sigh of relief. Even with his limited experience, he knew that women could naturally break their hymen if they were active or avid horseback riders. Thank the Maker for small favors.

Nymeria felt him stretching her to her limit and it was both uncomfortable and incredible at the same time. She watched him through hooded eyes; noting the way he worked his jaw back and forth in concentration, his back ramrod straight, obviously upset with the possibility of hurting her. But he relaxed and a puff of air that sounded like a prayer passed his lips. Realizing that her barrier was no longer a concern, she smiled gently and rocked along his length in encouragement. Cullen couldn't help himself now and he met her thrust for thrust, each one a little deeper, stretching her to accept more of him until he was buried to the hilt in her tight heat.

He groaned, tossing back his head. “Sweet Maker…” he panted. Nymeria moaned in agreement and swore in Elvish.

“Don’t…stop…Creators!”

Her green eyes begged him to move and he obliged. He pulled back and slid home, over and over building to a furious crescendo in time with her whimpers that grew into moans and soon bordered on cries of ecstasy. He slammed into her mercilessly, lost in the feel of her slowly getting even tighter around his width, groaning through clenched teeth, until he could feel the coil in the pit of his groin begin to snap. Release was not far off and he wanted to make sure she joined him. Reaching between her legs, he circled the swollen bundle of nerves with his thumb and placed the slightest amount of pressure possible against it.

Light shattered behind her eyelids as she screamed his name so loudly it surely roused half the castle, but she couldn’t hear how loud her end was, rendered deaf by the explosion of blood in her ears.

Cullen clung to her hips as she unraveled around him, bellowing his own completion to the rafters mere seconds after her. He remained within her after he was spent simply because he did not have the energy required to move, but he did not want to fall on his lover and suffocate her, either. Reluctantly, he disconnected their bodies and collapsed beside her in exhaustion.

Nymeria felt his eyes on her and she turned her head to face him with a breathtaking smile.

“That…that was…wow.” 

Cullen laughed hoarsely and took her hand, staring at her small fingers intertwined with his larger ones, pressing a tender kiss to her knuckles.

They rested in sated silence for some time to allow their furious heart rates to calm. Nymeria grinned wickedly at him when she was capable of speaking without gasping.

“Do you think they heard us?”

Cullen snorted and rubbed the bridge of his nose in minor irritation at the gossip they could expect in the morning.

“Half of Thedas heard us.”

“I was just checking,” she shrugged nonchalantly. Cullen lifted an eyebrow in silent question. “What was it you yelled at the end?”

Cullen blushed to his toes and tossed his arm across his eyes in horror, while his lover practically cackled with glee.

“Minx,” he growled playfully, rolling over her to settle her down with a deep kiss. He released her after a few moments, chuckling at her glazed expression. Reaching over her, he pulled the cord that closed the bed curtains on her side of the bed before doing the same on his. Nymeria helped him pull back the covers and they slipped under the sheets together.

Nymeria sweetly kissed his overgrown stubble and rolled onto her side with a mumbled goodnight. Cullen curled up behind her and found they were a perfect fit – not that he was really surprised at this point. Burying his nose in her hair, he breathed in her honey orange scent and smiled. After years of wishing and dreaming for the impossible, he was granted his one desire and he would do whatever was necessary to guarantee that nothing ever happened to her - just as he promised after the loss of Haven. 

“Goodnight, love,” he whispered in her ear, following her into blissful slumber free of nightmares for the first time in years.


	14. Chapter 14

They awoke refreshed and amorous, so they took more time learning how to bring each other pleasure. Nymeria was a little sore, but it wasn’t enough to keep her from Cullen and afterwards, when she was held fast in his strong embrace, she was quite pleased with her decision.

Cullen chuckled in her hair. “Happy, my lady?”

Nymeria stretched with a sigh. “Mmhmm.” She gazed at him in wonder – it was still a little hard to believe what happened last night. If he had not been in her bed this morning with her body confirming their actions, she might have written it off as a fever dream. She could see that his thoughts mirrored her own. Neither of them could have ever imagined that this could be a reality. Cullen had pined and hoped for almost two years, but never expected it to actually happen. Nymeria, for her part, had not realized the own depth of her affections for him until a week ago, but she knew what she felt for Cullen ran deeper and more real than what she had with Solas.

She smiled and planted a soft kiss on his sternum. “Come on, we should get up. Unfortunately, the world does not allow the Inquisitor to lay in bed all day.” She sat up, staring at her handsome partner and sighed dramatically, “Which is a damn shame.”

Cullen laughed and Nymeria enjoyed the way the sound washed over her, rich and warm, and settled in her belly. Reluctantly, she pulled back the bed curtain and rolled out of bed. She winced a little at the residual tenderness in her core, which was to be expected with her slim frame and his much broader one joining for the first time, but she didn't let Cullen see her discomfort to keep from worrying or upsetting him. The poor man had such a guilt complex.

He'd already tracked down all his scattered articles of clothing and dressed. He looked at his reflection in the mirror and ran a hand through his unkempt curls with an irritated sigh. He could spot all the places her small hands combed through his hair during their morning activities – to the untrained eye it would have seemed mused from sleep, but his curls would definitely be on display until he could get to his chamber to tame them. Cullen chuckled dryly and decided it wasn’t actually that bad. Besides, he was rather a fan of how it had been achieved and by whom. Stealing a glance at her, he watched her petite robed form gather her own discarded clothes and deposit them in her laundry basket in her back closet.

“Did you find all your things,” she asked from the small room.

“Yes, thank you. What about you? Any lost socks I should be helping you track down?” Nymeria peeked around the corner of the small room and giggled to find him smirking.

“No, all socks are accounted for. Small clothes, however, are another matter.” Cullen’s heart stuttered in remembrance of the soaked fabric and he panicked slightly to think of some poor servant girl stumbling across them while tidying up. Nymeria laughed richly and waved a familiar pair of small clothes at him from the closet. “I’m sorry,” she sputtered. “I couldn’t help it. The look on your face was priceless.”

Cullen shook his head with a grin. “I am beginning to understand why you and Varric get along so well.” She merely batted her eyelashes at him and sauntered over to her wardrobe which he was leaning against. Cupping his cheek with her hand she pulled him down slightly to brush her lips across his own.

“I hope you do not mind my teasing. I just love seeing you laugh or playing along. It is such a change from the serious Commander-of-the-army persona. I appreciate that you let me see you, Cullen.” He covered her hand with his own and closed his eyes contentedly.

“Thank you for wanting to know me. There have not been any people in my life that seemed interested in me and certainly none that I have wanted to share this side of myself with, if they existed.” His amber eyes were bright as he pressed his lips to her palm and he smiled when he spoke again. “You were worth waiting for, Nymeria. I only want to make you happy, even if that means I can expect at least one daily ‘gotcha’ moment.”

Nymeria’s eyes shimmered slightly. There was still so much unspoken tragedy in Cullen’s life that she knew was amplified by his lyrium withdrawal. It was part of what made him seem unapproachable to outsiders because he had learned to wall off the vulnerable pieces of himself that he was afraid to deal with, yet here he was exposing his vulnerabilities to her and she was not sure she was worthy of the honor.

He cleared his throat. “Besides, everyone is always telling me I should lighten up. No one better to teach me than the woman I love.”

She smiled brightly. “I am honored to be your teacher in the comedic arts.”

“And here I thought you were an assassin, not a comedian.”

With a dismissive wave, she replied, “You’ve never heard how I sometimes tell jokes so bad that my enemies willingly fall on their swords just to be spared another one?” She stepped back with a lopsided grin. “Care to hear one?” Cullen smirked and nodded for her to continue.

Clearing her throat dramatically she mimed holding her bow at him. “Okay, okay. What has two butts and kills people?” She paused for a moment. “An ASSASSIN!” Cullen groaned and she continued. “Wait, wait! I have another one – you’ll like it. What did the druffalo say to his son when he dropped him off at the Chantry? Bison!”

Cullen held up a hand with a laugh. “Andraste, those would be enough to kill a man.” Nymeria took a bow and giggled. “Fine, you may teach me to lighten up, but I’ll be learning any jokes from Varric.”

Nymeria was cackling now. “Wh-where do you think I learned them?” Cullen buried his face in his hands with a heavy groan.

The clock on the mantle pinged twelves times taking both occupants by surprise. “Surely it is not already noon – “ Nymeria trailed off when she peeked outside to check the placement of the sun. “Merciful Creators! Cullen, it’s noon! We are never going to hear the end of this, are we?”

Cullen chuckled and ran his hand awkwardly along his neck. “I am sure our companions will regale us with this story over every game of Wicked Grace from now until the end of time.” He stepped away from the wardrobe. “At least no one has disturbed us. I, for one, am glad to have been freed of Jim’s incessant missives this morning. However, it is time that we both returned to work.” Nymeria sighed as he wrapped his arms around her. “Would you like to me to come by this evening?”

Nymeria glanced at him quickly and found him swallowing thickly, afraid he’d made a mistake. She smiled tenderly. “Of course. Please come see me. I would love that, but not as much as I love you, vhenan.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Cullen kissed her sweetly. “I love you, too,” he whispered, tossing her his signature smirk when he headed down the stairs.

The door slammed behind him and Nymeria steadied herself against her desk. She stared at the tangled bed sheets and blushed to her toes, but happiness welled inside of her and touched all the dark places she had created within herself over the last year. She would have never expected things to happen the way they did – the Dalish Inquisitor and the human Commander! But she was witness to stranger things in her quest to fix the world. If the Empress of Orlais could love an elven woman, what was stopping Nymeria and Cullen from displaying their own love publicly?

Walking to her bed, she pulled the hidden cord to ring for a maid and snapped the bed curtains closed to hide the disheveled bedding. A few moments later she directed the serving girl to bring bath water and a lunch tray. Once the girl was gone, Nymeria rolled the small tub into the center of the room and began to assemble an outfit for the day, which she laid across the couch, and gathered her toiletries.

This was one of the rare times she wished she had a soaking tub to work out the stiffness from her body, but she would make do. At the very least she would be clean and no longer sticky. A faint blush erupted across her face and chest when she recalled _how_ she got that way and she turned her back on the line of servants bringing up water to hide her smile.

“My lady.” A soft voice interrupted her musings and she turned to see a serving girl placing her tray on the desk. The other servants were already gone and the tub was filled with steaming water, ready for use.

“Thank you,” she smiled and the servant left quickly so the Inquisitor could take a bath while the water was still hot. Removing her robe, she slid joyously into the hot water and leaned against the back as best as she could, allowing the hot water to relax and soothe her sore muscles.

Creators, she hadn’t been this sore since that last foray into the Emerald Graves and a giant backhanded her into a tree. Dorian used some quick healing spell to get her back on her feet and she’d guzzled a potion to heal any major damage, but by they time they’d returned to camp her body had been screaming for rest. It was reminiscent of that, except internal and it was not constant. It would rudely remind her of its presence if she moved a certain way or too quickly and her body had to take a moment to compensate. But the water was heavenly and seemed to be helping.

Once most of the heat was gone, she gingerly finished washing and quickly dried off so she could get ready for the day. She glanced at her clock and noted how it was about to announce the afternoon hour. Cursing herself for staying in bed so long, even with delicious company, she power ate her lunch of druffalo stew and dark bread and raked her hair into a messy bun. She opened the bed curtains and pulled down the sheets to signal the servants who would come in behind her to clean up that she wanted them laundered.

Breathing deeply, she steeled herself for the inevitable stares and whispers that would be making their rounds around the castle once she left her quarters. She would have to stop and speak to Dorian before he exploded with pent up anticipation. He would want all of the details, but she wasn’t going to give them. She smirked at the idea and feeling more confident, Nymeria straightened and headed for the main hall.

Everyone she passed so studiously avoided eye contact that Nymeria knew she and Cullen were the de facto topic of conversation throughout the castle. Ignoring them as best as she could, she headed for the main library. Dorian was sitting in his chair nursing a cup of tea with a strange expression on his face and a crumpled letter in his lap.

“Is everything alright,” Nymeria asked, glancing at the mage and the ominous letter with concern.

Dorian sighed sadly. “No. It seems I must return to Tevinter in the spring. I hope it will be a quick visit, but there have been stirrings in the Magisterium. Maeveris requires my assistance organizing her resistance movement.” He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples angrily. “There has also been an attempt on my father’s life. No doubt because I am part of the Inquisition and they wrongly assume that I do not care about how things are progressing back home. Instead, they assume that if he is dead, they can put another puppet in his empty seat in the Magisterium.”

Nymeria gasped. “Is he...”

Dorian softened and gave her a tired smile. “He is alive, but was injured during the attack. I must – I cannot leave things as they stand between us.” He crossed his arms stiffly. She knew he cared for his father still, but the two men had not quite figured out how to communicate around their own pride. Nymeria hoped they could use this time to heal some wounds and start rebuilding their relationship.

“Then you should go, Dorian. Do not wait for spring. There are plenty of passable travel routes, once you leave the mountains, anyway. You cannot allow to give your enemies more time to plan.”

The mage chuckled wryly as he stood. “Well, if I am to be leave, you had best give me all the juicy details of what transpired between you and our handsome Commander last night. It sounded positively animalistic with all that shrieking. I always wondered if Cullen roared like a lion he so tries to emulate – it was wonderful to have my theory proved correct before I left.” Dorian smirked wickedly, his dark eyes flashing with mischief. “I didn’t even realize Cullen knew so many curses, much less that he was capable of stringing them together in such a way.”

Nymeria failed to stop her furious blush, but she managed to toss him her best Inquisitorial glare. “You know I have never been the type to kiss and tell, Dorian.”

Dorian snorted. “My dear, I didn’t hear much kissing, just a lot of rutting.” He smoothed his mustache over his wicked grin. “Do not get me wrong – if anyone is entitled to the best shag of her life from the most delicious man in the South, it is you, my friend. Besides, I only tease you and beg for details, because I am insanely jealous. Next time, you really should share.” He winked teasingly.

Nymeria barked out a laugh. “Oh, yes. That will go over very well with Cullen.” Catching a glimpse of a chess board on the nearby table, she invited him to play. “Come on, let’s see if you can actually beat me and I _might_ share a few tidbits.”

Dorian’s eyes lit up as they settled themselves at the table and prepared the board for a new game. Nymeria could have sworn his eyes shone with tears for a moment, but before she could be certain, his gaze cleared and he made his first move. They spent most of the afternoon playing and frivolously gossiping about various Inquisition allies in a concerted effort to ignore their impending separation.

She'd known the time was coming for her remaining friends to leave. Their job was done and many of the soldiers had already gone home. Nymeria assumed that once all the final peace treaties were ironed out between the nations, that it would be time to hang up her Anchor, so to speak. But that time had not yet arrived, for her anyway, however her companions had their own lives they had to return to. It was just sad to lose them – the only family she had left.

Mid-afternoon rolled around and Nymeria hugged Dorian goodbye. She needed some peace and quiet, somewhere she could cry and not be disturbed. It was too much. First, Varric told her he was leaving and now Dorian...who would be next? Blackwall? Iron Bull? Cassandra had already left and taken up her mantle as Divine in Val Royeaux.

Just as Mother Giselle explained about the original Inquisition, it seemed the sun was beginning to set on the current organization. What would that mean for her when it was all over? The rifts across Thedas had finally all been closed. The Breach was officially closed, leaving only a jagged scar of green in the sky as a reminder of its time of horror.

Where would she go? Skyhold had become her home, but she doubted that she could afford the maintenance for such a large fortress once it was over. Besides, she would have no need for a fortress without an entire organization to house. She stepped into her private library and stared at all the forgotten knowledge tucked on their shelves and decided that wherever she went, she was taking all of her books with her. It was too thoughtful a gift and she was not sure that the books would survive another century or two in the castle, much less the inevitable looters that would descend for anything salvageable like wolves upon the grounds once it was vacant.

She had to consider the possibility of separation from Cullen, as well. What if he did not want to go where she wanted? But where did she want to go anyway? Antiva sounded a little too…exciting for her with the Crows doing business in broad daylight and she had had enough of Orlais to last her a lifetime. It would be hard to return to the Free Marches after the loss of her clan and Nevarra just sounded so… _Nevarran_ that she doubted she could be comfortable there, either. Rivain was still largely dedicated to the Qun after years of occupation and Tevinter was, well, Tevinter. The Anderfels were decidedly out, so that only left Ferelden.

Well, maybe she wouldn’t have to worry about Cullen, after all. His homeland was the only place she could think of to go, but he might have plans to go back to the Free Marches. Nymeria had never asked him how he felt about Ferelden or if he even still considered himself, as such. But surely, he would not want to separate after all that had taken place between them.

Plopping in the overstuffed chair wearily, Nymeria willed herself to stop thinking. She needed to turn off her brain and just…relax. There was no need for her to burden herself unnecessarily with thoughts of the end. They were still a long way off from lasting peace and until that was accomplished, her job was not done. That was what she needed to focus on – not the distant future.

She browsed the literature shelves for a mindless book and found an Antivan romance that looked like it would suffice. A quarter of the way through, blushing madly, Nymeria threw the book in the top drawer of her desk like it was on fire. If she did not stop, she ran the risk of needing a second bath! Creators, how could she hope to make eye contact with Cullen later this evening with those images coursing through her mind?

Not wanting to miss another evening meal and send the castle in a panic, Nymeria headed back upstairs and joined her companions for dinner. Pushing her worries aside, she made a point to join the conversation and laugh along with all of her friends. Even if they could not have forever, she would relish today.


	15. Chapter 15

Cullen held her gently against his chest as they sat on the couch and shared the stories of their day. She told him about Dorian’s plans to leave within a fortnight and Varric’s spring departure. Crying into his tunic, she explained that combined with Cassandra’s absence, Solas’ disappearance, and the loss of her clan, these last two separations were hitting her especially hard.

“I was just thinking today... _hiccup_...about where I would go when all of this is finally over.”

Cullen was momentarily caught off guard. “What do you mean, ‘when this is over?’” He stared down at his tear-stained lover, trying to discern any hidden meaning in her words.

Nymeria shook her head. “Not _us_ over,” she poked him with her elbow. “The Inquisition. It won’t last forever, Cullen. You have to admit that we will eventually reach a point where we are no longer needed. Even the first Inquisition eventually went home.”

The commander furrowed his brow. He’d never actually considered that a time would come when they would not be required. He was a realist and he knew there would always be battles to fight, causes to uphold, and people who would be needed to do the work others would not. But he knew that she was correct; eventually, they would be put aside and would become regular people again. What would that even be like? The last time he’d been a civilian he was thirteen – now he was thirty-one. He’d spent over half his life dedicated to the Templar Order, trying to uphold his vows to protect mage and non-mage alike, but foiled by madness on both sides for over a decade. Now he was Commander of the Inquisition – how could he expect to go back to being just Cullen Rutherford from Honnleath?

“I suppose you are right,” he wearily sighed. “We were so busy fighting Corypheus that I haven’t stopped to think about what would come after he was gone.” He tilted her chin up. “As long as you are with me, I don’t care where we go or what we do.”

Nymeria smiled brightly. “You want me to come with you?”

Cullen pulled her against him for a bruising hug. “Of course! Maker’s breath, I can’t imagine my life without you in it now.” He relaxed his hold, but kept her tight in his arms. “Do you have any idea where you want to go or what you want to do?”

“No, I’ve been trying to think of places I could see myself relocating to and the only one I settled on was Ferelden. But where in Ferelden or what I would do once I arrived…I don’t have answers for those yet.” Nymeria sat up so she could see his face. “What about you?”

He smiled and ran a hand through his sandy hair. “Well, I’m glad you mentioned Ferelden, because I have promised my sister that I would go to South Reach and visit them. I haven’t seen them in almost twenty years. I suppose I should go home and try to be a brother again.” Cullen kissed her hand softly and whispered, “I want to take you with me when I go, so they can meet the woman I love.”

It took her a couple of tries to get her tongue working again, but she finally squeaked, “You want me…to meet your family?” He nodded emphatically and smiled, but Nymeria’s heart was pounding and she wasn’t sure why. She looked at him with wide eyes. “They won’t care that I’m an elf? A Dalish elf? I know that most humans frown on elven-human relationships.”

Cullen leaned down and kissed her soundly, until her mind was too clouded by his touch to overthink the situation, and leaned back with a chuckle at the sight of her rendered speechless by his kiss. “No, they will not care, Nymeria. They will love you for who you are, just as I do. Will you come with me when I go?"

Warmth exploded out of her chest and traveled throughout her body, bringing heat to all of the small cold places that had taken up residence in her soul after the loss of her clan. She had not realized just how much she missed having a family. In order to keep fighting the war and winning the battles against Corypheus, she had buried her pain; hidden it until she had fooled herself into believing that it did not exist anymore. That explained the pounding she’d felt earlier – the assurance of a family and being loved unconditionally were no longer lost to her. Nymeria could have Cullen and his family, too. While her friends would always be like family to her, there had been a part of her that needed a clan – with an overbearing Keeper to maintain the familial bonds and nurture everyone. Cullen’s sister, Mia, would definitely fit the bill.

“Yes,” she breathed. “I will absolutely come with you.” Their lips met in a desperate rush, but it soon calmed into a soothing, tender kiss that sealed their promise for the future. Cullen pulled back, but kept his arms wrapped around her tiny frame and nuzzled her ear gently.

Nymeria moaned at the sensual touch, she would have to explain what that did to her one day, but right now her brain had turned to mush and she was incapable of forming words. Her lover chuckled and kissed her softly on her forehead before releasing her.

With a smile, he stood to leave, but Nymeria caught his hand. “You don’t have to leave, if you don’t want to.”

Cullen gazed at her curiously. “I doubt that you want me after…I mean, so soon…that is to say, ah – “

Nymeria giggled. “No, I don’t want to make love. I’m still too sore, but I would like for you to stay with me…in the bed, if you want.” The last part was whispered so quietly that had the room not been completely silent he might not have heard the words.

He swallowed thickly. Cullen was worried about overstepping his bounds. They had just started a relationship and he did not want it to be based purely on sex, but this request that he stay seemed to be based more out of love and a need to be close to him. At least, he prayed that was the case, because he felt much the same about her.

“If you are sure you want me to stay, then I would be most happy to oblige.”

She smiled warmly, a faint blush tinting her cheeks when she answered. “Yes, Cullen, I am sure. Stay with me tonight.”

He nodded mutely as she stood and began getting ready for bed. Watching her untie her bun, laying tiny hair pins along the top of her wardrobe, and picking out a night dress was strangely more intimate than making love had been. This was the secretive world of women and their habits that he had never been exposed to and he couldn’t help feeling more than a little awkward. She hadn’t even started undressing yet. Now, she was putting a couple drops of what looked like oil on her palms and running it through her platinum tresses and brushing it in until her hair practically gleamed. All the while, she was humming quietly with her eyes half-shuttered in what he assumed was pleasure.

It sank in that he would be staying with her again, but while she would be wearing clothing, he tended to sleep either nude or in sleeping pants. However, as he did not have a pair of pants with him, he would have to either sleep in his breeches or nude. He nearly swallowed his tongue at the idea of sleeping naked beside her, while she trusted him to behave, and decided that breeches would just have to suffice. Maker, please don’t let me make a fool of myself this night!

Nymeria watched the myriad of expressions flit across his face and felt so guilty that she almost told him he did not have to stay, but she did not want to offend or hurt him in any way. She bit her lip and hoped that she had not been selfish and made a mistake in suggesting he sleep with her. She just did not want to be alone with the day she’d had. Cullen was such a comfort to her and the loss of her clan weighed heavily on her tonight.

He had slipped out of his tunic and his boots, but he was still in his leather breeches. Nymeria did not comment on the oddness of it – she had seen him naked already. Why would tonight be any different? As she began to remove her clothes, she could see him watching her out of the corner of his eye, shifting from foot to foot, before finally sinking on the couch and angling his right leg over his knee to hide…Creators! The poor man!

Realizing that she was standing in only her small clothes and breast band, Nymeria quickly slipped the gown over her head and then removed the band underneath the night gown. She walked over to the couch shamefaced. “Cullen, I am so sorry. I did not think –“ She blushed and swallowed hard. “I was selfish asking you to stay and now I can see that you are...uncomfortable.”

Cullen blushed and shifted on the furniture. “I am, ahem, affected by you, true, but I would like to remain.” Neither of them spoke for a moment. Cullen continued to shift every now and then on the couch and Nymeria couldn’t make eye contact with him, but her shoulders shook silently. Reaching out to her with concern, Cullen asked, “Nymeria, are you alright?”

She suddenly burst out laughing. “Cullen, take those damn breeches off before you cause permanent damage.” His eyes widened in surprise. “I know, my noble knight, you are worried about propriety. But vhenan, I trust you whether you are clothed or not to simply sleep beside me.”

He blushed even deeper, but joined her in laughter. “I know, you’re right. I’m just being foolish.” Leaning down, the elf gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek.

“Good. That can’t be comfortable. I’ll turn down the sheets, shall I?” Turning her back to give him some semblance of privacy while he wriggled out of his snug leather breeches, Nymeria pulled back the covers on the bed and fluffed the pillows a little. He managed to get out of his pants and circled around to the other side of the bed to lift the sheets and crawl in. With soft kisses and whispered goodnights, the lovers fell asleep.

*~*

Winter in the mountains finally passed, allowing spring to take its place and melt the half-frozen snow piles. Once they had been white, but what was left of the drifts looked gray, adding a dinginess to the fortress. Nymeria would be glad when the snow was completely melted or at least, melted enough that the larger piles could be hauled away so the grass could grow back and add color to the grounds.

The last year had been relatively quiet. Peace treaties and agreements throughout Thedas had finally been drafted and signed by the various world leaders. Thedas was almost fully recovered from the events two years prior. Varric left for Kirkwall last spring and had funded a majority of the reconstruction efforts with his own coin. Dorian and Maeveris were making some minor headway with their resistance movement Lucerni and he was acting as the Inquisition’s Tevinter ambassador, but they had not seen each other since his departure a year ago.

Blackwall, now going by his real name Thom Rainier, was searching for the remaining men of his former unit to make amends. Nymeria never knew where he was until one of his rare letters arrived. Bull and the Chargers would occasionally travel throughout Orlais for work during the slower months, as there was a never-ending supply of nobles with odd jobs that they could take. Cole had become almost totally human, even eating and drinking a little, and in a relationship with the bard, Maryden. Nymeria was happy for both of them. He seemed to be none the worse for wear from their almost-relationship the year before and Maryden was genuinely in love with him.

Divine Victoria was doing well in Val Royeaux and her gradual reforms seemed to be accepted by the masses. Missy wrote Nymeria frequently with news of the capital, always written in a cipher that she and the Divine created and used only with Inquisition members; sometimes there would even be a letter from Cassandra herself secreted in amongst Missy’s long letters. Lately, her letters had become more of a warning that her ability to keep Orlais and Ferelden at bay was coming to an end. An Exalted Council had been called and political pressure was forcing her to schedule the Council for the summer. Missy promised to keep her ear to the ground and inform them of any news that would affect the Inquisition.

Nymeria sighed heavily as she climbed the stairs to the rookery. She plopped down at Leliana’s table and waved her letter in greeting. “I assume you received one, as well.” She pointed to the envelope with the Divine’s seal on the back.

Leliana nodded and hung her head sadly. “I do not know what we can do, Inquisitor. I believe our goals have been achieved, no? What else can the Inquisition offer the world now that peace has been obtained?”

The elf inclined her head in acknowledgment. “I agree, Leliana. We only stayed around for the last year to help the powers-that-be put down their axes and sign peace treaties. Now, that has been accomplished and we have no reason to remain.”

Leaning back in her chair the spymaster steepled her hands. “Then we should make plans. I suggest securing passage for anything you want to take with you from the castle. I shall write to Divine Victoria with our intentions. Unfortunately, we must still attend the Exalted Council or we risk further angering Orlais and Ferelden.” Nymeria nodded sagely. She knew there was no escaping the Council, but that did not mean they had to walk in unprepared. “I recommend, Inquisitor, that you and Cullen iron out any plans you have before we leave. We do not know how things will play out at the Exalted Council.”

“Did she mention where the Exalted Council is being held in your letter?”

Leliana smirked. “Why, the Winter Palace, of course.”

Nymeria groaned. “Cullen will be thrilled.” The redheaded rogue laughed loudly enough to startle the entire flock of birds causing a flurry of black feathers to rain on them. Nymeria giggled and promised to see Leliana at dinner before rushing off to find Cullen.

His tower was once again barred for the winter as an ice storm rendered the bridge too hazardous. She turned into the guest wing, where one of the rooms had been turned into the temporary military headquarters. Seeing her coming, the scouts scattered, leaving the hallway clear and the Commander undisturbed. Over the past year, many of them had almost barged into the commander’s quarters, only to run in terror at the sounds coming from behind the door. Since then, they had all learned that if the Inquisitor was around, they should definitely _not_ be.

Nymeria waltzed into his room and smiled warmly at the sight. Cullen was sitting in a chair, leaning it on the back two legs with his feet propped on the desk and arms behind his head. It was rare to see him so casual and relaxed when he was, technically, still in the middle of his working hours. She drank in the sight of him – light blue tunic trimmed in black that popped against his fair skin, dark brown breeches that hugged his muscular legs, and his favorite wyvern hide boots she gifted him for his birthday last summer.

“Vhenan,” she spoke softly to keep from startling him and sending him flying. He jerked at her voice, snapped from his reverie, but smiled brightly when his amber eyes landed on her. Easing the chair down and standing in a single fluid motion Cullen strode to her and gave her a deep kiss in greeting. Her petite hands snaked up his neck and curled into his hair, tugging gently on the roots the way he liked, while his hands cupped her backside and pressed her flush against him in desire.

They parted a little breathlessly. A year of being together had not slaked their attraction and the physical component of their relationship only mirrored their emotional connection. Nymeria would sometimes stare at him while he slept in amazement – still in disbelief that he had waited for her all that time. She must have been mad to believe herself in love with Solas, for now she knew the meaning of true love. Love did not desert you: love celebrated your successes and hugged you through your moments of doubt, love was always there to support and encourage, to uplift and make you smile. Love was Cullen and there would never be anyone who could hope to shake him from her heart.

“What were you thinking about?”

He shrugged and hummed noncommittally. “The end of winter always makes me hopeful for spring and sunny days. I guess I was just a little wistful.”

Nymeria looked at him askance with a disbelieving turn to her mouth. “Uh-huh, I see.” She poked his taut stomach. “Never go into spy work. You are a disgraceful liar. Keep your secrets then,” she teased.

Cullen smirked and she wanted to smack him. He finally learned how his smirk affected her and he used it to his advantage far too often. Part of her couldn’t be mad when he did it though – far too distracted to even be angry about his taunting with that sexy scarred lip.

“Not fair,” she finally whispered.

He laughed richly and wiped her mouth with his thumb and a twinkle in his eyes. “You’re drooling, love.” Nymeria swatted his hand playfully and rolled her eyes. “So, what brings you here?”

Her hands fiddled with the leather laces at the top of his tunic. “Ah…I have received news from Divine Victoria.” Cullen quirked an eyebrow. “There is to be an Exalted Council this summer. It can no longer be avoided.”

“Damn…I had hoped we had more time to stall. Does she believe this is it then?”

Nymeria shrugged. “I cannot say, but Leliana and I believe it is time to put away our swords and go home.” She cupped his face running her thumb tenderly across his stubbled jaw. “Oh, Cullen. I know how you have dreaded this moment. You live for a cause, but our next cause is even better. It will be _us_ – living our life the way we want.”

He ran his hand up and down her back in soothing motions. “It’s not just the cause. I am a military man through and through. How do I go back to being Cullen Rutherford? I don’t know how to be a civilian. I don’t even have a trade outside of how to fight. How will I provide for you?”

Nymeria’s heart broke to hear his fears spoken aloud. “Vhenan, there will always be a need for a man with sword training. Maybe as a guard or even as a private training instructor.” Cullen looked doubtful, so she barreled on. “Besides, you don’t have to provide for me. I have more money than I know what to do with in my personal coffers and I was a hunter for my clan. I know how traditional you are, but we are not a traditional couple and we can write our own rules.”

His arms tightened around her and pulled her close. “I hope you are right. I just want to give you everything and I feel that being a civilian prevents me from doing that.”

She laughed lightly into his tunic. “I already have everything I could ever need or want. I have you.” She felt his chest rumble as he barked a short laugh.

“I know. I know,” he breathed into her hair. Nymeria had the impression he wanted to say more, but she did not push. Cullen still had a habit of hiding his vulnerabilities and would only disclose them when he was ready.

Stepping out of his embrace she took his hand and led him from his winter office. “We have time before dinner to be alone –” she trailed off coyly and Cullen smiled.

“Lead on, my lady. I only live to please.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively and Nymeria giggled as they walked hand in hand to their suite.


	16. Chapter 16

Spring was a flurry of activity for the occupants of Skyhold as they prepared for what could be the end of their glorious run. Letters had been sent to their scattered companions with all haste informing them of the upcoming Council and directing them when to arrive in Halamshiral. Cullen and Nymeria used some of Varric’s merchant contacts to secure passage of their belongings to Ferelden when the time came. They did not have a destination yet, but once one was chosen, all they had to do was inform their contact of where to have their furnishings delivered.

The rosebushes on the gate trellis bloomed a couple of days before the Inquisition set out for the Winter Palace. Nymeria remembered the story of the rosebush in Lothering that Leliana once shared with her and she wondered if it was a good omen or bad. Leliana believed the rosebush from Lothering was a sign that she should fight the Blight, but in hindsight it could also be seen as a portent that all the beautiful things she once loved were about to wither and die.

Shaking off the sudden cold that had settled in her bones with a curse, Nymeria turned on her heel and ran up the courtyard steps into the tavern. Maryden was polishing up a new song she planned to debut in Halamshiral and Cole was sitting slightly above her on the stairs, tapping his hand in time with the music, wearing a soft smile. He had chosen to keep the shorter haircut, but no one ever saw it because he refused to give up his overly large hat. Seeing Nymeria enter he gave her a small wave and she nodded pleasantly at the young couple. She wasn’t quite sure why she had chosen this place during her panicked flight, but it was as good a place as any to calm down, she reasoned. She made polite small talk with Scout Harding and caught up with Krem before exiting the building and returning to the castle.

Two days later, she awoke before dawn to find Cullen already awake and staring at the canopy. Nymeria knew something was still bothering him, but today of all days was not the time to attempt to pry information out of him. She slid her arm across his bare chest and peppered his warm skin with kisses. He laughed quietly, running his hands through her nearly white hair, marveling at how she managed to keep it so silky and at how long it had grown in a year. Once sitting just past her shoulders, now it almost reached the middle of her back.

“Come on. We must get ready if we are to make it to the Winter Palace on time.” With a heavy sigh, Cullen obeyed and swung his legs out of their warm bed. He was fond of this bed – they had many wonderful memories on it and it was more comfortable than the one he’d been given for his own tower.

They changed quickly in the chilly morning, both of them grateful that it was summer. In the mountains, a fire was required in the hearth year-round to ward off the cold wind that blew across snowcapped peaks. In winter, they learned to stay in bed until the sun rose, combining the warm rays with the fire or risk frostbite to any exposed skin. Dressed in their traveling gear, Nymeria made a final sweep of their room to make sure they were not leaving anything important behind.

She paused at the head of the stairs and took one last look at the suite. This was the first place she had ever been able to call her own and it had been her sweet retreat after every mission. Then, Cullen moved in about three months into their courtship and it became even more special. Now it was a private abode for lovers to unwind and share their most intimate moments. It saddened her to leave it.

With a heavy heart she took Cullen’s hand and they passed through the great hall. She ran her fingers over the Dalish trappings reverently, but she did not stop. Holding her head high they walked down to the courtyard and mounted their horses. Halamshiral was a five-day ride from Skyhold and they were saving the parade mounts for entry into the Palace grounds. Today, she would be riding her Dalish All-Bred and she tossed Cullen a grateful smile, which he returned with a small nod. Nymeria smiled to Leliana and Josephine who would be riding directly behind them.

Cullen clicked his tongue and flicked his horse’s reins to begin their march. Their honor guard fell into step behind them and Nymeria’s heart swelled with pride at their perfect cadence and glanced at Cullen. The army was all his doing and that had taken dedication and damn hard work. She had inspired people through blind faith, but he had taken all those faithful and turned them into a force to be reckoned with.

Once they were outside of the gates, Nymeria remembered all those who had gathered in the courtyard and the battlements, who were not military, to see them off. She knew that quite a few children had risen early to see the Inquisitor and her army march off to see the Divine. Holding up her hand to halt the men behind her, she grinned wickedly to Cullen. “Trust me,” she said. Then she wheeled her horse around and raced back up the hill. She could hear his horse hot on her heels, but she rode like the wind. Voices and cries of excitement were heard on the ramparts as she neared the castle, her long silvery hair flying behind her like a banner, her left hand raised high in triumph as she sped through the gate and raced victoriously around the courtyard to the utter delight of the servants, tradesmen, and children who had braved the early morning. Nymeria would see them rewarded one last time with a proud Dalish Inquisitor who defeated an ancient horror to save the world – to save them. Because the civilians were the reason she fought. She fought for those who couldn’t fight for themselves – she was their sword.

Cullen raced in behind her and realized immediately what she was giving them – a farewell. And damn it, they deserved one. So, did she. He rose up in his stirrups and cried, “Your Inquisitor! Nymeria Lavellan!” Swords rang out behind him and he turned to see that the last segment of the guard had followed. They stood in the courtyard, pride shining in their eyes, swords raised high in her honor as Nymeria made one last pass. People bowed or curtsied as she cantered by, some women even lifted their children to her hoping for a blessing, and throughout it all Nymeria smiled or murmured words of encouragement.

He could see the shimmer in her eyes as the sun began to crest the peaks and he had to blink back his own tears. She finally turned her horse towards the gate and the honor guard held their swords in front of their face in silent salute as she passed through them. With a final wave and a too bright smile, Nymeria passed back out of the gates and down the hill to the front of the procession. Once she and Cullen returned to their places, they resumed their march.

Leliana spoke up from behind. “That was beautifully done. They will never forget you and they will tell the story of the fair elven Inquisitor giving them a final victory lap for generations.”

Nymeria let the tears fall since she was facing forward and no one except Cullen could see. “Good. Our work may be done, but let them never forget what we all did to achieve that victory. Never again will history forget an elven Inquisitor.”

Josephine sniffled. “Never again, my friend. I will make sure that Antiva remembers you with gratitude.” Nymeria shot her a quick smile and then resumed her forward position to keep the honor guard behind them from realizing their Inquisitor was crying.

Not caring that the entire honor guard was behind them, Cullen reached out to take her hand and press a kiss to her knuckles. It was awkward with the rocking motion of their mounts, but he felt that she needed the touch. He certainly did. Watching her ride to the castle and silently say goodbye to their people, to their home of three years, brought many emotions bubbling to the surface that he wasn’t capable of dealing with due to their current audience. But he could give her this – a little reassurance that no matter what transpired over the next few days, they would weather it together.

Their march to Halamshiral was uneventful. Josephine planned the route carefully to ensure that the Inquisitor was seen in every large township of note along the way to boost their popularity prior to the Exalted Council. It was a smart strategy to ensure when the Inquisition was disbanded that they would go out with high approval among the people.

As they neared the city, a brief halt was called so the advisors could change out of their traveling gear into their formal wear and the parade mounts could be saddled. Nymeria decided to pull up her hair to give her a more dignified air with the Orlesians. Leliana offered to help and together they styled her platinum locks into an elegant chignon. The ladies emerged from the spacious dressing tent freshly coiffed, changed, and even newly fragranced with Josephine’s latest perfume oil from Antiva.

Nymeria approached her Orlesian Courser, regaled in the armor and colors of the Inquisition. Cullen was holding his reins so she could climb up and not worry about the horse spooking since the armor blocked his entire peripheral field of vision. A groom offered his hands to help boost her into the saddle, as the Courser was much taller than her usual mounts and dealing with a mounting block was too much of a hassle when they were on the move. Once she was perched atop her horse, reins in hand, she waited for Cullen to mount up alongside her and then ordered the final march.

As they passed through the city of Halamshiral, lords and ladies, elves and children, watched from windows and doorways as the Inquisitor and her retinue strode toward the Winter Palace. Once they reached the palace, nestled in the hills outside the city, Nymeria could hear Cullen grumbling about the pomp and ceremony. She bit her cheek to keep from smirking – she was aware of how much he detested formal parades, but she also knew it wasn’t his main reason for griping. Waving politely to Arl Teagan of Ferelden and receiving a sneer in reply, the elven woman recognized that this would not be a pleasant experience. She continued to wave to those assembled for the parade and plastered a false smile on her face, silently commiserating with Cullen in his hatred of the Game.

When they reached the palace courtyard, Nymeria was more than happy to dismount and search the grounds for the companions that managed to make it to the Council. The first person she located in the bustle was Varric – who was oddly allowing a rather imperious human to berate him. He caught sight of her and waved enthusiastically. “Inquisitor! It’s been too long,” he chuckled as she strolled over.

“Varric! It’s wonderful to see you again. How have you been?” She bent over to give him a hug and that familiar smell of leather and spicy aftershave washed over her. Creators, how she had missed him!

He chuckled and shrugged nonchalantly, “Oh, you know, been busy with my new job as Viscount of Kirkwall.”

Nymeria’s mouth fell open and she sputtered, “You’re…the Viscount of Kirkwall? And you didn’t tell me?!” He shrugged again with a grin and told her how he was nominated by the nobles, because the lack of leadership in the city was interfering with his relief efforts. They decided that that his griping constituted as volunteering and gave him the job.

“I was hoping I could catch you before this Council got underway. I got you a present. Its official recognition of your titles and holdings in Kirkwall. Congratulations, you’re a Comtesse now!” The angry human appeared at his elbow, flapping like a crow in distress about Varric’s unapproved gift-giving, but Varric ignored him and offered her a second surprise. “The Key to the City!” The man, whose name was Bran, was apoplectic by this point and explained that it actually opened one of the chain nets in Kirkwall’s harbor. “Really? That is so much cooler than I thought,” exclaimed the dwarf, smirking when Bran wandered off, muttering to himself.

“Varric, this is possibly…too much. I don’t know what to say.” She looked at the key in her hand slightly horrified, but she appreciated his gesture.

He ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I don’t know how this…Exalted Council business is going to go. I just want you to know that you have a place in the Free Marches, if you need it.” Bran reappeared holding a large stack of letters and coughed insistently. Varric sighed and Nymeria thanked him again before dashing off to search for more friends. She would have to discuss with Cullen this new development in their “where should we live” predicament.

She found Thom next, trying his hand with throwing daggers, and Nymeria grimaced at how horrible he was at it. He finally caught sight of her and enveloped her in a bear hug with a hearty laugh. “Maker, it is good to see you again!”

Nymeria laughed with him and they sat on a nearby bench to catch up. Thom told her how he managed to track down most of his former unit that still lived across Southern Thedas and visited each one in turn to apologize. She snorted, “How many people hit you?”

Thom smiled ruefully. “I stopped counting at twelve, but I can take a punch.” The elf patted his knee gently and he gave her hand a light squeeze. He cleared his throat. “I don’t know what to make of this Exalted Council, but I want you to know that you have my sword arm, if you need it.” Nymeria thanked him quietly and blinked back tears, slightly overcome by the conviction in his words.

Promising to speak with him later, Nymeria continued to make her rounds. She spoke to Cole and Maryden, who informed her that following the council, they would be leaving the Inquisition to travel and continue to help others. She gave Cole a bone-crushing hug and whispered, “You deserve to be happy. I wish you all the best.” The young man blushed and shuffled his feet, unsure of how to reply. Nymeria gave Maryden a tight squeeze, as well. “Thank you for the light you brought us these last few years. I will miss you, but please, keep in touch.” Maryden assured her that they would stay in contact and Nymeria smiled brightly.

Krem waved desperately to her around the corner of the tavern. Curious, she walked over and the man yanked her around the side of the building and furtively checked their surroundings. “Inquisitor, we’re gonna need some help.”

She looked at him quizzically. “Help…with what,” she asked suspiciously. Krem broke into a huge grin and jerked his thumb to the Chargers standing behind him with a dragon skull.

“It’s for the Chief’s birthday! We need you to distract him so we can drag it into position.” The elven woman bounced on her toes with excitement. A surprise present for Bull! Nymeria nodded and sauntered casually into the tavern.

“Boss! Pull up a chair!”

“Hey, Bull. What are you drinking?” He swirled his mug and peered critically at the liquid inside.

“Orlesian piss, I’m pretty sure. I’m more of a stout guy, myself, like Cullen!” Bull tapped her lightly on the back, but it was still forceful enough to send her small elven frame halfway across the bar. He hooked the sash on her uniform with a giant finger and gently placed her back on the bar stool. “My bad. You weigh less than a feather, Boss. I bet Cullen is able to heft you around the bedroom pretty easily, am I right?” He winked and Nymeria elbowed him with an embarrassed giggle. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

She cleared her throat and then launched into a discussion about the different noble titles of Ferelden. Bull’s eyes started to glaze over, but she could see the Chargers were still struggling to push the skull to the tavern. “Hey, I have a question for you. Remember that phrase: ‘Taarsidath-an halsaam?’” She had his full attention now – Nymeria smirked triumphantly.

“Yeah…? What about it?” His one eye bored into her, wondering where this was going.

Shrugging nonchalantly, she continued. “I never asked if you _did_ bring yourself sexual pleasure later while thinking about slaying those dragons with great respect?” Nymeria batted her eyelashes at him. Bull’s mouth had gone slack and he couldn’t respond.

“SURPRISE! Happy birthday, Chief!” Bull jumped slightly, snapped out of his stunned reverie and spun around with an overly wide smile.

“Awww, guys! You got me!” He looked at Nymeria when he spoke the last words and she laughed until she was breathless. Bull shook his head in amazement while the Chargers congratulated themselves on their handiwork. Fluttering her fingers in goodbye, the elf slipped out the side door and continued to explore.

She walked to the opposite side of the courtyard and waved to Cullen, but did not interrupt as he was speaking to the Empress’s Guard Captain about where the Inquisition’s forces would be stationed during the Exalted Council. She walked up a flight of stairs and almost broke into a run at the sight of her dear friend. Dorian was there in his ambassadorial capacity, officially; but they both knew that was really there to see her. It had been over a year.

Nymeria greeted Duke Cyril and spoke briefly to him before excusing herself and dragging the Tevinter ambassador with her. They found a quiet spot under a canopy to sit and catch up. “My dear, it’s been ages. While I do enjoy being back home, it is lacking your company.” Dorian smiled warmly at her.

“I’ve missed you, Dorian. Letters are not the same. How have you been – really?”

He smiled, but she could see the weariness in his eyes. “Oh, trying to halt centuries of rampant corruption in my country can be a trifle…messy, if one does not handle it delicately.” Dorian sighed heavily and took both of her hands in his. “In fact, there is something I must tell you, my friend. I received a letter this morning…my father was assassinated and I’m to take his seat in the Magisterium. Once this Council business is handled, I’m going back to Tevinter – permanently. If I don’t see this through, no one will and nothing back home will change.”

Nymeria’s eyes filled with tears. She understood how important this was to Dorian and she would never discourage him from doing what he thought was right. She would be a hypocrite, if she did. “I am sorry about your father, Dorian.” He squeezed her hands tightly and gave her a clipped nod in reply. “Of course, I shall miss you, but I would never tell you not to go. Just please, be safe. I cannot lose my best friend in the whole world.”

“Ah, my dear, if there is one thing I have learned from you, it is how to take down my enemies and not die in the process. Now, I need you to promise _me_ something – don’t become a stranger.” Dorian handed her a necklace and showed her how to open the spherical pendant to reveal a magically suspended crystal. “It’s a sending crystal! We can still talk to each other, anytime.”

“Oh, Dorian! That is a promise I can keep.” Nymeria threw her arms around his neck and choked a broken chuckle from him as he hugged her tightly. They stayed that way for a few moments, sad in the knowledge that this Exalted Council may be the last time they ever saw one another in person. She finally released him, wiping away the tears on her cheeks, and slipped the necklace over her head. “I hate to leave, but I still have to speak to Arl Teagan.” Dorian wrinkled his nose and waved her off before the angry Arl tore the palace apart to find her.

With leaden feet she trudged across the walkway that separated Duke Cyril and Arl Teagan and found the dour Ferelden animatedly speaking to Divine Victoria. The arl sent her a withering glare as she approached, but she kept her composure and even managed to keep things civil as he publicly derided her. After he finished saying his piece, Nymeria wandered over to Cassandra.

“Your Perfection.”

Cassandra rolled her eyes ever so slightly. “I don’t think I will ever get used to the flowery titles. And this hat…ugh!” Nymeria snickered and Cassandra smiled in return. “I’m supposed to remain neutral in these talks, but I feel that will be beyond my capabilities. You are still intent on your choice then? Even despite what this Council may decide?” There was sadness in her tone, but resignation settled on her face when Nymeria simply nodded. “I see. Well, I only wish you and Cullen all the best, Inquisitor. It may be the last time I can call you that.” Cassandra sighed wistfully and excused herself.

The only one left to speak to before she was ready to begin the Council was Cullen. She hoped that he was available now as she could really use his calming presence before she sat before Ferelden and Orlais and listened to their demands and accusations. Nymeria found him in the garden by the gazebo petting a giant dog. “You have a dog, I see?”

Cullen shifted with embarrassment. “They don’t breed mabari in Orlais. I think his owner abandoned him for one of those fluffy lap dogs that Orlesians prefer,” Cullen wrinkled his nose in distaste. Nymeria grinned at his sudden attachment to the massive creature. The dog may be large, but he was quite regal in his stance and seemed to live for belly rubs. She reached out and gave him a good scratch behind the ears and it melted in adoration at her feet. Cullen laughed. “He likes you, too, it would seem.”

“Well, I guess we have a dog now. Can’t get much more domestic, can you?” Nymeria grinned at the fool dog rolling on his back.

Cullen stood and gazed at her lovingly. “Actually, it can. Marry me,” he breathed. Her mouth fell open and she gasped. “I mean, ah…I had a plan and there wasn’t a dog…it doesn’t matter. I’ve thought of little else. I only need to know if you will.”

Finding her voice at last, Nymeria stuttered. “Cullen, of-of course I will marry you! Although, I think that will garner attention if the two highest ranked members of the Inquisition get married in the middle of the Exalted Council.” She paused and bit her lip.

“What is it?” He reached out and lightly brushed her cheek with his hand. It warmed her heart at how well he knew her.

“Reciting vows to the Maker means nothing to me, personally. But I don’t want to offend…” Nymeria wrung her hands nervously. He knew she did not believe in the Maker and would never ask her to convert; while it did not seem to bother him, it was always a topic she shied away from. He loved her as she was, she knew, but he was so faithful and fervent in his beliefs that she feared hurting his feelings.

He smiled softly. “All I want is for your vow to be true. In whatever language or to whomever you revere. As to the other issue, we do know people who can keep things secret. Come back here this evening when the gardens have cleared out some. I will have things ready then.”

Nymeria gave him a sidelong look. “ _This_ is what has kept you distracted! And you said you didn’t have a plan!” Cullen smirked, his amber eyes dancing mischievously, but he only kissed her hand tenderly before shooing her towards the palace and the reason they were there. 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the short chapter. I had to split this one in half to keep it from running too long. Next week's update will be longer!

Nymeria struggled to hold her tongue against Arl Teagan’s insinuations that the Inquisition had “invaded” Ferelden. She bristled when he claimed that Caer Bronach had been “seized” (as he so eloquently put it) for political purposes. When, in actuality, she killed the bandits that were responsible for preying on innocent villagers. Oh, and so she could access the dam controls to drain a lake, crawl through underground caves filled with decaying human slime, battle a horde of demons, and close a rift to _save_ Crestwood. But no – she was apparently a thieving elf, after all.

At least she wasn’t alone in her outrage. Divine Victoria’s left eyebrow was twitching; a sign to anyone who knew her that she was well and truly exasperated. Nymeria was only amazed that Cassandra managed to control her acerbic tongue. Duke Cyril explained that Orlais would keep the Inquisiton from “overstepping” and that any mistakes they made were well-meaning. Was this his way of buttering her up? It was just as backhanded as anything Solas had ever said to her. She huffed angrily and hung her head as she bit her cheek. Nymeria was tempted to call off the Council that instant and disband the organization, if it would spare her more interminable days like this.

An elven woman in Inquisition livery appeared and whispered that Leliana was requesting her immediate presence. Thank the Creators! “My apologies, something has come up and I must see to it. Josephine, would you please take over?”

“I-I, of course, Inquisitor.” There was a panicked ring to Josephine’s words and Nymeria felt bad leaving her alone at the mercy of the Exalted Council, but she did not expect to be gone long. She would be back to sit beside her ambassador and listen to their diatribes soon enough.

Nymeria followed the soldier through the courtyard in the direction of the makeshift wardrobe station that had been set up for her. There was a cot, as well, but it was more for quick naps during Council recesses, as all the guests had been given rooms in the palace. But when they neared her dressing area Nymeria was quick to realize that was not their true destination. A crowd of nobles surrounded a small building and Inquisition guards stood at the door. Odd that Leliana would want to speak somewhere with so many eyes upon them. She entered the structure warily and felt her stomach hit the floor at the sight in front of her.

A Qunari. Wearing blood-soaked armor. Dead. In the Winter Palace.

Leliana stood from her place beside the body and gave her a quick spymaster’s read of the situation and it didn’t sound good. A Qunari warrior severely injured in a fight and separated from his fellows somehow stumbled into a palace full of guards to die.

“What was Iron Bull able to tell you?”

“Nothing. He is Tal-Vashoth and no longer privy to any intelligence. He is as surprised as we are.”

“Well, he had to come from somewhere.” Nymeria reached into herself and put on the mantle of Inquisitor again. Her questions and rising panic would have to be temporarily shelved because she had a job to do: to get to the bottom of this damned mess. She heaved a mental sigh of regret that she would not be returning to aid Josephine as planned, after all.

“I suggest following his trail to see where it leads. I will start discreetly investigating the servants to see if they know anything or saw something helpful.” Nymeria nodded absently.

Once Leliana cajoled the nobles away from the scene, Nymeria slipped out a side window and stealthed through the courtyard, following the trail of blood the Qunari left. It led up a trellis and then a second one to the level above which spit her inside the palace. The elf narrowed her eyes and tried to figure out what the hell was going on. Qunari _in_ the palace now? Creators, this just kept getting worse.

She rounded the corner and nearly choked on her own tongue at the strangled gasp that passed her lips. An eluvian. _A_ _bloody eluvian_! Shimmering and active in the Winter Palace with a massive pool of blood in front it where the Qunari must have slipped on the marble floor when he stepped through it.

No, no, no, no, no. Didn’t she just end a war a couple of years ago when she stole one of the last working ones from Corypheus? How could this one be _here_? How could it be functional? Creators, this was too much. Nymeria scrambled back from the mirror and practically hurled herself down the trellis to find her advisors. She was going to need a team and they were going to need to come up with a good cover story for her absence.

Upon returning to her dressing room, Nymeria sent Charter to fetch Iron Bull. There was a missive from Leliana explaining that she had pacified the Exalted Council and Divine Victoria called a recess to give them some time to strategize. Nymeria sighed while rubbing a hand across her forehead in exasperation. Leliana didn’t give any details about _how_ she managed to smooth their ruffled feathers and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. This wasn’t how this Council was supposed to go.

“Qunari and eluvians? That doesn’t make any sense, Boss. You know how the Qun feels about magic.” Bull’s confusion after explaining events intensified her concern, but she schooled her features, only nodding firmly to her former Ben Hassrath comrade.

“I know. It makes zero sense, but that is what I saw. I’m going to need you on this, Bull. Maybe as we go along, you’ll have some insight into this insanity.”

Bull steeled his jaw and stood to his full height. “Oh, I’m coming, Inquisitor. We’re gonna kick some ass,” he intoned with a grin.

The elf nodded with a wild glint in her eyes that always gave Iron Bull shivers of delight before a fight. “Gear up and grab Varric and Dorian, too. I’m going to wait until the courtyard clears out a bit so we aren’t so noticeable, but hang tight in the tavern until I’m ready.” He left her dressing room to round up the others.

Once Bull left, she quickly changed into the dress that was mysteriously hanging in her dressing room and then she exited to find Cullen in the garden. Before she went on this mad quest for eluvian-using Qunari, Nymeria planned to get married.

The lower courtyard was thankfully empty, now that the sun was sitting lower in the sky and a recess had been called on the Exalted Council. Most of the nobles and visiting dignitaries were inside the palace, plotting and scheming in the Grand Game over dinner. She was not sad to be missing it.

Cullen was standing by the gazebo with Mother Giselle and his dog. The white structure was dressed in boughs of flowers – wisteria, honeysuckle, and baby’s breath were draped over the railing and woven through the slats of the roof. The air was heavy with the sweet fragrance and she could tell by the tiny cuts on his hands that Cullen had done the work himself. 

He walked over, drinking in the sight of her in her gown and took her hands. “We don’t have to do this right now. The Qunari – “

“Can wait,” Nymeria whispered. Cullen’s small frown was replaced with a shy smile. She reached out and cupped his cheek. “Vhenan, I do not want to go another minute without being your wife. Besides, look at all you’ve done to make this happen.”

He cleared his throat in embarrassment, a slight flush riding up his neck, but his warm eyes spoke volumes, sending shivers of delight through her body. “You look…beautiful does not do you justice.”

It was Nymeria’s turn to blush and she self-consciously smoothed the gown. It was ivory silk with lace overlay on the bodice and long lace sleeves, from there the cool silk flared out delicately from her hips. Embroidered along the hem, small pastel flowers and green vines were interspersed with stylized curls in gold meant to represent halla horns; a nod to her Dalish background. She left her hair in the chignon to accentuate the sweetheart neckline and added the barest touch of pink lip stain to the center of her lips.

“Thank you, vhenan. I don’t know how to thank you for this. You must have been planning for months.” Cullen chuckled and kissed her hand, but did not elaborate. “Shall we, Ser Rutherford?”

Bowing low over her hand with a smile, Cullen escorted her to the gazebo and Mother Giselle. His dog was standing guard over a velvet lined basket and Nymeria could see the glint of gold inside. Her eyes teared up a little at the rush of emotion she felt for the man in front of her. He had gone through much trouble to organize this marvelous surprise and she knew without a shadow of a doubt that they were meant for one another.

Once they were standing in their places, Mother Giselle blessed them and prayed that they would always have love and happiness through all the trials of life and asked if there were any who did not believe that they should be together. Nymeria blinked, removing her eyes that had been completely enraptured by the golden man holding her hands, to furtively cast her gaze to the center of the courtyard and gasped. She could hear Cullen’s pleased chuckle when she realized that all of her friends were present. Even Divine Victoria and Missy were there, tucked away from the line of sight of the nobles, so they could watch without creating a distraction on their day. She could see the tears glistening in most of their eyes, Dorian and Cassandra especially, that matched the tears welling in her own.

“Cullen…” she breathed.

“They are your family. They are _our_ family and I wanted them here for you.” Nymeria was so stunned, so couldn’t even find words, but she knew the time for her vows were approaching. No one spoke out against their marriage and Cullen whispered, “What happens now?”

Nymeria smiled at him radiantly. “Now, I say my vows to you, Cullen. Sylaise enaste var aravel. Lama, ara las mir lath. Bellanaris.” Then deciding a quick translation would be appropriate for the groom and their guests, she continued. “Sylaise’s blessing upon our home. From now on, my purpose is to love you. For eternity.”

Cullen rapidly blinked away tears before taking a deep breath and saying his own vows to her. “I swear unto the Maker and the Holy Andrastre to love this woman the rest of my days.” Mother Giselle smiled warmly at the couple and gave a slight nod to the dog who gingerly picked up the basket and walked it to Cullen. He reached in to pull out the gold bands inside and the dog returned to his original spot. Nymeria shook her head in amazement at the pair and leaned over to give the mabari a quick scratch behind the ears.

Taking the thinner band in his hand, he slipped it gently over her ring finger, and ghosted his lips over the ring once it was in place. Nymeria could hear the choked sobbing from Cassandra in the background and Varric passing her a handkerchief with a murmured word. She took the thicker band from him and repeated the motion on his hand, releasing a breath she didn’t even know she’d been holding when it slid to the base of his finger. Nymeria stared at it in wonder – elves didn’t use rings to denote marriage, but seeing the band flashing on his hand indicating to the world that he was married to _her_ filled her with joy.

“You may now kiss your bride,” Mother Giselle murmured quietly to the couple. Time slowed for Nymeria in that moment as he gently pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her petite frame – she felt safe, protected, loved, cherished – and when his lips touched hers a rush of a _something_ crashed over her. Giving herself over to his kiss that was full of hope and happiness the word she was searching for hit her like a rampaging bronto – exultant. The cheers and clapping behind them yanked her from her revelation and unfortunately, his lips, but they chuckled breathlessly at each other as they separated. Turning to face their friends they were swarmed with hugs and congratulations from all of them and during the crush Nymeria was able to give Mother Giselle a hug for her willingness to marry them.

“My dear, it was my pleasure. I am pleased to see you both so happy. Take care of one another, child, and enjoy each day you have together.” Nymeria hugged her tightly and promised that she would. Cullen also gave her a small hug in gratitude before the older woman disappeared to let them celebrate.

They did not celebrate as long as they might have, were there not mysterious dead Qunari turning up in the palace. Nymeria only allowed herself one small glass of wine and several more kisses from her newly minted husband before she sadly excused herself to change into her armor. Cullen followed a few minutes after her exit and found her staring at her leathers on their stand. Wordlessly, he began unlacing the back of her gown and Nymeria closed her eyes. The somber mood was not how she ever envisioned her wedding night, but she was still the Inquisitor and there was a job to do. Not even her wedding could stop the world from falling apart, it seemed.

She carefully slid her arms from the lace sleeves to avoid ripping the delicate fabric and Cullen kept the gown from hitting the ground when she stepped out of it. He ran a hand over the silk fondly as he draped it on the clean cot and then like a well-oiled machine, he helped her quickly don her leathers as he had done many times before. Nymeria did not require help, but she knew it soothed his nerves when he assisted her, so she let him. As he tightened her cuirass, she unpinned her hair from her chignon, quickly braided it and repined it into a bun. It would hold better in a fight that way.

Cullen did a check on her buckles and integrity of the leather, looking for weak points that could be exploited, but he did not find any and he finally stepped back with a brisk nod. His jaw worked back and forth in anxiety, echoing the suddenly rapid beat of her heart and she swallowed hard against the nausea that threatened to overtake her. Nymeria reached for her bow and slung her quiver over her back before she was able to face him without crying. 

Pulling her in for a fierce embrace, Cullen whispered raggedly in her ear, “Be safe, love. Come back to me.”

Nymeria tightened her hold on his jacket. “I will, vhenan. Ar lath ma.” She could feel the jerk of his shoulders as he struggled to reign in his emotions.

“Ar lath ma, Nymeria.” She pressed a quick kiss to his temple, afraid that if she kissed his lips, she would never leave. Cullen felt her slip from his grasp and he watched sadly, and not without a touch of fear, as she left to risk her neck for an ungrateful world. Again.

Her companions did not comment on the subdued expression of her face as she waved them to follow her from the door of the tavern, but they did share sad glances amongst themselves. Varric’s eye was constantly drawn to the tiny band that encircled her finger and he swore that he would make sure she returned home to Curly – they had been through enough for three lifetimes already and didn’t deserve this latest disaster.

Nymeria led them up the trellis and inside the blood-stained palace hallway. They all paused to steel themselves before stepping through the shimmering mirror and into another mystery that Fate signed them up to solve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poetic translation of Dalish wedding vows borrowed from fenxshiral on tumblr.
> 
> Hope you liked my take on the wedding!


	18. Chapter 18

Nymeria stood agog on the other side of the Eluvian. Pathways everywhere, some broken and some useable, led to active eluvians scattered throughout the area. Brilliant, vibrant colors – some of which she had never seen before and did not even have a name for – surrounded her. Powerful magic kissed her skin, caressing her in welcome, and tears pricked her eyes at the intimacy.

“This is the Crossroads Morrigan took me to. I’d forgotten all the colors,” she sighed wistfully.

“Uh, I don’t see any colors,” stated Varric. Nymeria glanced at him curiously.

“It seems that you are the only one, my dear. Maybe it looks different to elves, since it was created by them,” intoned Dorian. Nymeria filed the information away for later, however, as she spotted the trail of blood that led to another eluvian up a short path. The group dashed up the hill and Nymeria ran through it – in full Inquisitor-to-the-rescue mode.

Nymeria took stock of the new area warily. It was old – ancient, in fact. They climbed the stairs through the brick building and she gasped at the green hills and massive structures that dotted them. She knew from somewhere deep in her soul that this was _home_. This was a place of the ancient elves – a familiar hum resonated in her bones that permeated the Temple of Mythal.

“We’re not in Orlais anymore, are we,” queried Varric. She could only shake her head numbly. Dorian squeezed her shoulder gently, yet firmly, reminding her that they had a task to perform. Nymeria shook herself and led them around the building where they spotted Qunari fighting across a bridge. There was a portion of the bridge missing and a mechanism that raised it, but the weighted piece that worked the mechanism was nowhere to be seen. Another mirror shimmered off to the side and heaving an aggravated sigh, Nymeria beckoned her team to follow her.

It spit them out in one of the other buildings scattered in the valley and during their explorations they discovered murals explaining that Fen’Harel, the Dread Wolf, was not a traitor to the elves, but their savior from slavery and that the “gods” were simply very powerful mages. It made the hairs on her neck stand up as she read them…something was familiar about them. Nymeria couldn’t deny that here, in a place of her people, they rang with truth. One mural reacted to the magic of the Anchor and opened a secret room dominated by a stylized Dalish tree sculpture hanging upside down on the ceiling, flaring with lime green light similar to her mark, and underneath it was a weighted statue on a pedestal that she wagered would release the bridge mechanism. As she neared the tree, the magic touched her hand and was immediately absorbed into her body sending her careening to the floor with a scream.

“Inquisitior!” All three men rushed to her. Iron Bull pulled her into his lap while Dorian forced some water down her throat and Varric fanned her madly with his gloves. Dorian kept shooting worried glances at her hand that was spiking with random flares of magic, but his cursory examination of her with his magic showed that she was unharmed. It was only her hand that was affected.

After a couple of minutes, Nymeria gasped and her eyes opened again. She curled into a ball in Bull’s lap with a groan, holding her hand gingerly against her chest. No one spoke, but the tension in the ancient chamber was palpable. Another few moments passed before Nymeria was able to stand, albeit a little unsteadily, and she studied the tree warily. “I must use the mark on it. I can feel that the Anchor is…different now. It’s the only way to move forward.” As she opened her hand, she ripped open the magical energy that had been held captive by the tree for Creators-knew-how-many centuries and ancient spirit sentries descended upon them with a vengeance.

Her team fell into step with her immediately – the years of their separation were nothing in the face of muscle memory and well-choreographed martial training. Dorian had a barrier around them before the first spirits even showed, which gave them a precious few seconds to figure out their opponent’s style and weaknesses. In battle the spirit elves fought like the sentries in the Arbor Wilds – fierce, fast, brutal. They wasted no time and they attacked without mercy, so Nymeria returned the favor – scything through multiple enemies at a time and pining them to the floor so Bull could cleave through them with his greataxe. Varric scattered traps across the ground to slow them down and give the team a chance to hit them, while Dorian used lightening and fire to weaken the crowd.

It was chaotic in the dark, but Nymeria got an idea from the wild magical light in her palm and released the magic in the room. The Anchor acted like a beacon – an eerie green glow filled the chamber and she noticed a green shimmer descended on them, as well. A crazed spirit rolled to her, slashing with his wicked daggers, but the blows just bounced off of her. “The Anchor! When I activate it, it makes us invulnerable,” she yelled as she leapt away and rained arrows on a patch of spirits.

“Great news, Boss! But let’s kill these bastards faster, what do ya say?”

Nymeria laughed from somewhere, since she was in stealth, and more arrows flew through the room. She aimed for kneecaps, elbows, shoulders, eyes – all places that would cripple their opponents and end the fight faster, but they were tough. Quicker than lightning and practically impervious to attacks since they weren’t technically alive. And then the light blinked out in the room and they were fighting their enemy in the dark again.

“Light would be nice!” Varric’s voice echoed in the stone room and Nymeria growled in frustration.

“I can’t use it yet! It has to charge!” She could hear the men swear in multiple languages around her, causing her to grin and roll her eyes, in spite of herself. Just like old times.

They were finally making progress though – only three spirits remained. Digging deep within herself, Nymeria fought with wild determination. Pin, rain, leap, spin – the dance she learned in the years as Inquisitor coursed through her blood, firing up muscles and awakening reflexes that turned her into a force of nature on the field. She laced her arrows with poison and tossed grenades to slow down and burn their foes. She could feel the mark on her hand prickling angrily and knew it was charged. With a snarl, Nymeria released the magic, giving them invulnerability and light once more.

“Fuck yeah, Boss!” Iron Bull cleaved through a spirit and it fell at his feet. He moved to bowl over one that was focused on Dorian. She and Varric filled the last two with as many bolts and arrows as they could until they joined their fellows on the ground.

The room was still washed in green from her mark, but the strange magical flare was gone. Stepping around the bodies of the spirit elves, Nymeria snatched the statue from the pedestal and quickly fled the chamber. Once they were back on the exterior stairs, she studied the statue in the daylight. It was a wolf, sitting on its haunches and howling. A pretty common Elvhen motif, yes; but now that she knew more about Fen’Harel and his “refuge” for freed elven slaves, holding it in her hand gave her chills.

“Come on. We have to backtrack through the eluvians to the bridge so we can get across to the Qunari.” They returned to the bridge without incident and locked the wolf into place, which raised the middle section from the lake, so they could cross. Bow in hand, Nymeria reached the opposite side and quickly noted all the Qunari bodies scattered around. Well, this did not bode well.

They carefully entered the building and she took a second to glance around from behind a column. Richly decorated with tapestries and ornate mosaic tile flooring, just like the tomb of the Emerald Knights and Mythal’s temple. The ancient elves certainly had a penchant for gilded décor. Focusing her attention on the fighting ahead, she sighed to see both Qunari and spirit elves engaged in combat. This was not going to be an easy battle, especially as some of the elven archers had taken up residence on higher ground. If they didn’t take out the archers and the massive Qunari Saarebas first, they weren’t going to make it back to Orlais.

Explaining that strategy to her team, they prepared to engage their foes. Dorian cast his barrier and the three long-range fighters used the element of surprise to rain death on the archers, while Bull went straight for the Saarebas. Within moments they were completely swarmed by more Qunari who had been further ahead in the strange building.

It was a hard-fought battle, but Nymeria remembered to use the new anchor ability for an extra edge whenever it began to prick painfully with excess magic. She worriedly noticed that it was becoming more unstable and harder to contain with each use. By the time they finally felled the last opponent, her arms were screaming from holding her bow for so long while the constant _thrum_ of the bowstring left her fingers with residual vibrations. It had been some time since she had jumped literally from battle to battle – the old Nymeria could have handled this with ease, but peace time made her soft. And she had not been sparring as often, especially prior to the Exalted Council. None of them expected her to fight in the Winter Palace...again.

Everyone took a moment to breathe and take stock of any injuries, but finding no serious wounds, the four of them moved deeper into the island building. Dominating the final room was a large statue of a wolf lounging comfortably and staring at a mural that decorated a wall. Both walls actually were covered in floor to ceiling murals in the traditional Elvhen style and braziers that Nymeria instantly recognized as veilfire lamps.

Nymeria’s breath hitched as she studied the mural that held the wolf’s stone gaze. Fen’Harel, face obscured by a hood, removed the vallaslin marking an elf as a slave to one of the Evanuris, while other elves who had been “freed” crowded behind him in support. Unconsciously, she reached out and touched the wavy lines representing the vallaslin and a noise somewhere between a sob and laugh fell traitorously from her lips. Once again, her companions did not remark on her distress, but none of them missed the conflicting emotions that were currently gnawing at their leader.

With a disgusted snort that would have made Cassandra proud, Nymeria turned away and focused instead on the statue. There was an elven treasure chest in between his paws, but after fiddling with it for a few minutes, she realized that it was a puzzle lock. Taking stock of the numerous braziers, she wondered how long it would take her to crack it with so many options. Stepping back from the statue to get a different vantage point, her eyes followed the line of sight of the wolf and she smirked.

“Of course. Fen’Harel, the Dread Wolf, would use a wolf to lead the way. Sly bastard.” Nymeria walked to the torch directly under the elf giving up his slave markings and asked Dorian to light it. Immediately the wolf statue’s eyes lit up in the same eerie green as her anchor and slid across the floor, revealing a secret stairwell and unlocking the chest. Snagging the loot in the chest, the four of them warily tiptoed down the stairs, alert for any signs of trouble.

It was an armory – a clear indication that those freed by Fen’Harel fought back against the Evanuris who claimed godhood. She chewed her bottom lip as the realization that everything she grew up believing about her gods was wrong. Were the ancient elves no better than humans then? Owning slaves and making up creation stories to justify their actions, only to condemn the one who fought against injustice? Creators! Her steps faltered a little and she threw out her right hand to grab the stone wall. She couldn’t even call them “creators” anymore without knowing what a lie that was. A heavy weight lodged in her stomach at the thought, breaking her out in a cold sweat. She officially had no one – nothing – from her past life that she could claim anymore. Her clan had been wiped out, her vallaslin was gone, and now she learned that her gods were false.

Borrowing Cullen’s breathing technique, Nymeria took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, over and over until the overwhelming crush of emotions that descended upon her were properly shelved to be dealt with later. There were likely Qunari in the armory and they still had not found anything to explain their presence in Orlais. She needed answers to the Qunari issue, more than her Dalish heritage.

Gathering herself, she led the men around a corner and quickly sized up their opponents; more Qunari guarded a working eluvian. How many of those mirrors were there?! Nymeria stared at the massive warrior who was obviously in charge – he was bigger than Iron Bull with an axe the size of her friend, alone. She downed a rejuvenation potion to help her body make it through the next fight. Once her limbs started vibrating with a renewed surge of energy, they dashed into battle.

Dorian got the barrier up just in time. The giant warrior leapt from across the room and smashed his axe down her front – without that magical shield she would have been cleaved in half. She cried out in surprise and fear at his ability to move so quickly. Nymeria evaded his next swing and dropped into stealth to escape. Iron Bull and Dorian’s full attention was on the one who’d charged her, so she slipped to the opposite side of the room and started to work on the assassins in the enemy ranks. She couldn’t leave them on the field to take down her warrior and her mage.

Nymeria and Varric used every dirty trick in the book – traps, poison, grenades, throwing knives – as well as their usual talents, but these Qunari were the toughest sons-of-bitches she’d come across. Dorian raised them from the dead when they fell to give the party more allies. A tactic that used to give her chills was now one of her favorite methods against their opponents. Iron Bull charged the warrior, who was finally showing signs of weakness, knocking him to the ground and slicing his enormous blade through the air. It crunched loudly through the enemy Qunari’s neck and sent his head rolling towards the eluvian before it stopped short of Varric’s feet. The dwarf barely gave it a second glance as he uncocked Bianca and took Nymeria’s hand to drag her away from the ghoulish sight.

“Well,” the elf panted, “let’s see if we can find any information on why they were here.” Bull was already searching the warrior’s body and produced a slightly bloody piece of parchment. As he read the missive, his forehead furrowed into deep valleys and he shook his head in confusion.

“Boss, these eluvians connect to Halamshiral. That’s why they are using them. This was an infiltration. I don’t get it, it’s crazy! We’re not at war with the Qunari, but they are acting like we are!”

Nymeria frowned and turned away to continue searching for helpful intel. She could hear Varric unlocking a couple of chests and humming appreciatively with whatever he found. It was petty, yes, but it reminded her of all the countless times they had done similar things and it brought a fleeting smile to her face. She would have to give him a hug later for helping her stay grounded when it felt as though the world was trying to swallow her up again.

In one of the back rooms Nymeria found another blood covered note, but she was able to read enough to understand that someone else came through the eluvians and awakened the spirits to stop the Qunari and then disappeared. Great – so now they had Qunari _and_ a mystery person to contend with. Her advisors were going to be simply thrilled. Rolling up the note for evidence, she led her men through the eluvian and walked through the Crossroads to the mirror that would return them to the palace.

They stepped out of the mirror and quietly slid down the trellis. Leliana’s agents met them and quickly escorted them through a servant’s entrance and servant hallways to sneak them back to their rooms in the Winter Palace. It was nearly dawn and the guests would be rising shortly, so they had to return before anyone was aware they hadn’t even been in their rooms overnight. After seeing her to her room, the agent informed her that Leliana would be sending a trusted agent to collect their gory armor and have it cleaned away from prying eyes later in the morning. Nymeria nodded wearily and quickly shucked her dirty leathers so she could fall into the inviting bed. She was asleep within seconds of hitting the pillow.

*~*

Hours later Nymeria awoke feeling rested and ready to meet with her advisors. She tossed the warm throw off of her body, unsure when she’d even wrapped herself in it, but grateful as she was only wearing her undertunic and smallclothes. Sitting up, she paused before sliding off the bed. Cullen was sprawled across her desk, fast asleep with parchment scattered about his feet. Even from here she could see the beginning of dark patches blooming under his eyes and the weight in her stomach became heavier. She hated to see him like this and she hated to be the one responsible for his worry and his workload. Retirement sounded better and better – she could only hope the day was fast approaching.

Slipping off the bed as quietly as she could, Nymeria tiptoed to her husband and tenderly ran her fingers through his hair. “Cullen, vhenan, time to wake up.” He stirred under her touch and she moved her fingers to his shoulders, working on the knots that were already starting to settle there, gently massaging him to wakefulness. He hummed appreciatively under her ministrations and she smiled that something so simple could please him. “Better?”

Cullen sat up and covered her left hand with his own, leaning his head back against her abdomen with a contented smile. “Much, thank you. I would have joined you on the bed, but I was afraid of waking you.”

She snorted. “I’m pretty sure a herd of stampeding brontos wouldn’t have been able to wake me up after the night we had.”

He stood up to face her with a frown. “One of Leliana’s people took your armor and I saw the state it was in. You were not injured, were you?” Cullen’s eyes traveled over her frame searchingly as he gently took her hands in his.

Nymeria was touched by his concern and she lifted one of his hands to her face so she could lean into his palm. “I am fine, vhenan.” His warm brown eyes reminded her of his favorite brandy – intense, heady, with just enough heat that the burn was pleasurable. Cullen smiled slightly in relief and those gorgeous eyes pulled her in until her lips were pressed desperately against his mouth.

Cullen responded by picking her up, his lips never leaving hers, and carrying her back to the bed. He only abandoned his kisses long enough to kick off his boots and toss their tunics into a far corner. Calloused fingers traveled across her scarred flesh reverently. Nymeria appreciated that he did not mind her imperfect skin – she wasn’t a fine lady who sat at home and embroidered all day, but she used to secretly worry if a man would be turned off by the many lines and dips that marred her body. She needn’t have worried with him. Cullen knew where every scar was and the story behind them, and he always showered every part of her with devotion.

Her fingers danced along the planes of his back – hard edges, but smooth skin. Cullen had seen his share of skirmishes, yet was relatively unscarred because of the heavy plate he wore. The scar on his lip, a smaller one hidden in his hairline, and a light dusting on his lower legs from templar training in his youth were really the only marks he carried to show for his military career. He leaned back slightly to unlace his breeches and she watched her husband divest himself of his pants eagerly. Even a year later, seeing him naked left her breathless. Cullen knew he was handsome, but he truly had no idea just how gorgeous he was. Of course, he said the same about her and she didn’t believe him, any more than he did her.

As he freed his legs from his pants, Nymeria wiggled out of her smallclothes and spread her thighs for him. He stared at her with an intensity that made her blood boil. “I love you, Cullen. I love you so much that the words seem inadequate – especially when you look at me that way.” Nymeria smiled warmly at him and he returned it with the smile he reserved for her alone; soft, tender, unguarded.

“If you only knew how often I think the same. I love you, Nymeria.” Cullen leaned over and kissed her deeply as he joined himself with her causing them to moan together. They moved in unison, slowly stoking the fire of passion between them into a raging inferno. She tangled her fingers in his hair and tugged gently, he retaliated with a nip on her pulse point, she arched her back for more depth, he hitched a leg high above his waist. They had perfected this dance and it was always a beautiful display of give and take; sometimes they would drag it out for hours, other times they would finish in half an hour.

Nymeria could tell he was nearing his peak; his strokes were becoming more erratic and there was a hitch in his breathing. Cullen’s hand deftly reached between them and circled her pearl, sending liquid fire through her nerve endings, but she shattered when his other hand stealthily snuck around her head to caress the tip of her ear. She screamed before she could control her volume only serving to spur her husband on and in moments, he followed her with his own release.

Rolling beside her, Cullen pulled her against him and she snuggled happily into his strong embrace. Listening to each other breathe, Cullen playing with her hair while her hand kept track of his strong heartbeat. Right now, in this moment, it was just the two of them. There was no Exalted Council, no Qunari trying to start a war, no mysterious third-party further complicating things. If she closed her eyes, Nymeria could even forget they were in the Winter Palace and pretend they were in their room at Skyhold.

Tears fell from her eyes before she was even fully conscious of her overwrought emotional state. Cullen held her tighter as her shoulders shook and tears mingled with the sweat on his skin. He could imagine what had her so upset; the same things were eating him, too, but he was careful that she didn’t know of his own tears that fell in her hair. He shushed her softly and murmured how much he loved her while she cried for the life they left behind and the impossible position she found herself in once more.

Slowly the tears subsided, but she continued to cling to him, mumbling to herself about “creators” and “lying sons of bitches.” Cullen smirked and tried not to laugh. It always amused him when she swore – such an unexpected thing to hear from such a demure looking woman. With a heavy sigh, she finally peeled herself off of him and he reluctantly let her crawl off the bed and rinse off the evidence of their tryst at the washbasin. She disappeared into the cavernous closet to dress and he sighed resignedly. He searched for his clothes, using the same cloth she did to clean himself, and dressed quickly so he could evaluate the state of his hair in the mirror. It was definitely in need of some correction. Reaching for her brush, he ran it through his hair to tame it somewhat and snagged the jar of pomade that she purposefully packed with her things, knowing where he would actually be sleeping. Maker, he loved that woman. Nymeria watched him work the product through his hair from around the corner and smiled. His one vanity and she adored it about him.

Cullen was aware that she was spying and a year ago he would have been mortified for her to watch him stoop to Dorian-esque levels of primping, now it filled him with a sense of fulfillment: his wife (Maker, he loved calling her that) keenly observing him across the room as he prepared for the day. Satisfied that his curls were sufficiently reined in, he rinsed his hands in the washbasin and dried them on the unused towel, before turning to get her opinion.

She wore her formal attire with her long hair braided and draped over her shoulder. Nymeria walked over and examined his hair with a critical eye, knowing how he liked it and wanting to make sure that he gave the perfect impression to the court, she smiled and deemed it suitable.

“Come, vhenan, we need to meet the others. I have much to share with you all. We should stop by your room and get your formal jacket.”

He smiled and walked into the closet, returning with the very jacket she referred to. “No need. Word of our nuptials spread like wildfire after you left last night. It is part of why no one thought to look for you overnight. I had the servants move all my things in here.”

Nymeria laughed. “Well, I’m glad to know that my record for shocking the Imperial Court still stands.” Cullen pulled it on and quickly secured the buttons. “You weren’t here when I came in, though?”

Cullen shook his head. “No, I was holding a conference with Leliana and Josephine, but once her agent came to announce your return, I came straight here.”

“Vhenan, you should have slept in the bed!” He merely shrugged; she had no idea how many times he had fallen asleep across his desk during the war with Corypheus two years ago. She rolled her large eyes in minor exasperation and his lips quirked in a ghost of a smile. “Alright, you infuriatingly handsome husband of mine, let’s go meet with them together.”

“Ma nuvenin, lethallan.” Cullen offered his elbow and she took it with a tender smile, her frustration instantly evaporating.

“Your elvish is very good, lethallin.”

“I have a wonderful teacher,” Cullen murmured as they exited the bedchamber and he led her to where the others awaited them. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this story, please leave kudos or comments! Validation for my muse is always appreciated!


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